


From Here On, Blind

by cmere



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: Alcohol/Drug Use, Lots of Sex, M/M, Rimming, Sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:09:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmere/pseuds/cmere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When GOB starts hooking up with JBJ during his time with the entourage,  he doesn't think much of it, but he soon finds himself on a path of endless, complicated questions without answers as he struggles to figure out who he is and what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Here On, Blind

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you SO INCREDIBLY MUCH to shes_gone, reallycorking, and longleggedgit for reading this over and betaing and giving me feedback at various stages of the fic, not to mention listening to me talk about it at great length and holding my hand and just generally being amazingly awesome supportive friends as I made much too big a deal out of it for the last 2 months. Thank you also to all the wonderful people on tumblr who helped cheerlead me on while I was freaking out on a regular basis.
> 
> This is FAR AND AWAY the longest thing I have ever written and it's also pretty personal to me. I would greatly appreciate any and all feedback you might have about it. Thank you so much in advance for reading it!

GOB is wasted and JBJ has him pinned up against the wall, one hand down his pants and the other clutching his ass. They’re in the bathroom of the club, even though Mark had thought it was gay that they went together, “but we both have to piss,” JBJ had shouted; “What’s the big deal?”

Then, when GOB had been fixing his hair in the clouded, dirty mirror, JBJ had come up behind him, a little too close, and GOB had felt JBJ’s erection against his ass, and JBJ was biting his lip, and then he dragged GOB by the shirt front into the single stall. Now they’re in there, and JBJ is attempting to jerk GOB off without undoing his tight pants, and there are guys right outside using the urinals and even though the bathroom is disgusting and JBJ can’t really get a good grip on him, GOB is finding it all pretty hot.

That might also have to do with the fact that GOB is drunk and horny and JBJ has been giving him bedroom eyes all night, rubbing his mouth while he stares at GOB, spreading his legs—but he’s not thinking about that now. He’s focused on the feel of JBJ’s hand on him, rubbing and rubbing, and JBJ’s breath moistening his already sweat-slick neck, overly warm from dancing all night, packed into the crowd.

“What the fuck!” There comes a yell from outside the stall, and a loud, relentless pounding on the door. “Go find somewhere else to fuck, some of us need to take a shit!”

GOB is impressed that he doesn’t lose his boner, even with the less than savory imagery. JBJ yanks his hand out of GOB’s pants and unnecessarily wipes it on his shirt. He looks at GOB nervously.

“How are we supposed to leave?” he asks in a whisper, eyes darting to the door and then back to GOB’s face. 

“Don’t worry,” GOB says. “They’ll never even know we were here.”

After slamming the stall door open and squirting the man in the eyes with lighter fluid from his forearm pouch, GOB takes JBJ’s hand and they sprint back out into the crowded club. The flashing lights are nearly blinding and GOB can feel the music thrumming through his chest. He’s dizzy and drunk and a little nauseated. JBJ quickly drops his hand right before they meet back up with the group.

“Hey, queers,” Mark yells, gesturing with his drink at them.

“Hey,” GOB yells back, his arms suddenly empty without something to sip or JBJ between them. He’s turned on and frustrated and JBJ is motioning and making weird faces at him. It takes a minute or two before he realizes his fly is still down. He quickly zips up and tries to express wordlessly to JBJ that it’s fine, but JBJ is just staring at his bulging crotch.

GOB exhales. He can’t focus on anything. He knows he has some forget-me-nows in the limo and he can’t wait to take one. Maybe JBJ will split it with him.

\--

“Hey,” GOB says when JBJ picks up the phone.

“Hey,” JBJ says back.

“How are you?” GOB didn’t plan on saying this when he rehearsed the phone call in his head, but it comes out anyway.

“Bro, I think I’m still drunk from last night,” JBJ says. “That was wild, man.”

“Right? Me too,” GOB says, laughing a little. He can’t remember what happened last night at all.

“It was cool to hang out with you some more, bro,” JBJ says. “Like in the bathroom.”

“In the bathroom, yeah,” GOB echoes. “That _was_ cool.”

“So did you call just to make sure I’m still alive? Because I am. I think,” JBJ says.

“Oh, no. I mean yes! But I was actually calling to see what you guys were up to tonight.”

“Oh, we’re going out. You should totally come. Swing by and pick us up at ten.”

“Will do!” GOB looks at the clock. It’s 7:30. What’s he going to do for the next two and a half hours?

“Okay, bro. See you soon,” JBJ says and GOB hears groans in the background. Everyone must still be hungover. He is, too, but he knows of a surefire way to help with a hangover—drink more.

By the time GOB pulls up to Mark’s house in the limo, he’s tipsy from drinking alone and not eating anything substantial for dinner. Mustard and parmesan cheese is tasty enough, but it only fills him up for maybe half an hour.

“Hey, guys!” GOB shouts as they all pile in. JBJ ends up in the front seat next to him, messing with the music, while the others pass them shots up from the back. GOB likes having the company up front. It really makes him feel like part of the crew.

“You wouldn’t rather be back there?” he asks quietly as the rest of the boys break into peals of raucous laughter from a comment he and JBJ couldn’t hear.

“Naw, man. I’m happy to get a change of perspective,” JBJ says. GOB glances over and finds JBJ is looking at him. He grins and JBJ grins back, then claps his hand on GOB’s knee. He leaves it there for a little while, too, until the fabric is starting to feel damp from JBJ’s sweaty hands.

“My hands sweat too, when I’m nervous,” GOB says, trying to make him feel better.

“Cool,” JBJ says, and even though GOB has turned his eyes back to the road, he can feel JBJ’s trained on him.

\--

“How’s the weather gig going?” GOB yells. He and JBJ are in the VIP lounge on the balcony overlooking the main dance floor. He can see Mark and everyone else below in the crush of people, tearing it up. GOB isn’t quite in the mood tonight.

“It’s okay,” JBJ says slowly. He takes another swig of his whiskey. “At least, I think it’s going okay. My dad would tell you otherwise.”

“That’s dope that your dad is John Beard,” GOB says, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

“It’s not that dope. He’s an asshole.”

“He always seems so nice on TV.” GOB is surprised at JBJ’s vehemence.

“He’s nothing like he is on the news in real life,” JBJ says, shaking his head. “First of all, he hates me for doing meteorology instead of following in his reporter footsteps. Second, I’m only doing _weekend_ weather. _Nobody watches the weekend news, John Junior,_ ” JBJ says sarcastically. “Like, I’m 22. I’m just starting out. Not everybody can get the primetime spot when they’re so young, like him. But it doesn’t matter. I’m a failure.”

GOB is shaking, but he’s not sure why.

“I feel you,” he says, reaching for the bottle of whiskey. JBJ passes it over and he takes a swig, trying to steady himself. “My dad tells me I’m a failure every day. He hates my magic because he thinks it’s not serious work. But he won’t let me be in charge of the company, either. My little brother can handle that, but somehow I can’t.” GOB takes another long drink and the liquid burns its way down his throat. “He’s never respected me.”

“Yeah,” JBJ agrees. “Exactly.” GOB passes the bottle back to him and watches him drink. “You’re chill, Getaway. I’m glad we found you.”

GOB’s heart starts beating faster. “Me, too.”

The silence that falls is awkward, so GOB leans forward to try to spot the guys in the writhing crowd again. “I can’t see anybody—”

“Hey, queers,” Mark screams from behind them. He’s surrounded by bleached-blonde women who all look exactly the same. “Why don’t you stop sucking each other’s cocks and let’s get this party started?”

GOB blushes, as he has a very distinct recent memory of JBJ on his knees in the street, sucking GOB off against the limo. Thankfully, it’s dark. JBJ grins at him and the corners of GOB’s mouth turn up a little, too.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” one of the blondes yells in GOB’s ear, her cleavage spilling out close to his face. GOB looks back at JBJ, but he’s already talking to another one of the girls.

“Getaway,” GOB says, and he shakes off the feeling of an unfinished conversation and tries to focus solely on her. “Want to see a magic trick?”

\--

“We’re wiped, man. We’re not going out tonight,” JBJ says apologetically. “Sorry. It’s been like six straight days of partying, we need a break.”

“No, that’s cool,” GOB says. “Actually, I think I have plans anyway.”

“Right,” JBJ says. “Well, hey, we’ll probably see you tomorrow, right?”

“Right,” GOB says. “See you.” He hangs up the phone and throws it to the other end of the couch. 

GOB flips channels until he stumbles upon the _Pride and Prejudice_ movie. “Yes,” he grunts, getting up to make some microwave popcorn and ready to settle in for the long haul. 

Just past midnight, when Mr. Darcy is about to propose, his phone rings.

“JBJ!” GOB cries, excited. “You guys decide to get your party on anyway?”

“Oh, no way,” JBJ says. “The other guys are asleep. I just…wanted to talk to you before I went to bed.”

JBJ was thinking about him. GOB’s hands start to tremble.

“What did you do tonight?”

“We watched _Transformers_ , bro. You?”

“Same!” GOB nearly shouts, narrowing his eyes at Mr. Darcy on the screen.

“Really? That’s crazy!” JBJ laughs.

“Too crazy.” GOB clicks off the TV and lies down on the couch, closing his eyes. He yawns and then hears JBJ yawn on the other line.

“You’re making me tired, man,” JBJ murmurs.

“Are you in bed?” GOB asks.

“Yeah. You too?”

“I’m on the couch,” GOB says. “Sometimes I fall asleep here, though.”

“Cool,” JBJ says, his voice almost a whisper.

“Well, if you need to go to sleep or something, that’s cool,” GOB says, not wanting to keep JBJ up and make him too tired to go out again tomorrow night. GOB recognizes that they all probably needed a night off from drinking, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have rather been out with his…friends. _Friends._

“I’m cool,” JBJ says, and then GOB can only hear him breathing on the other end, slow and deep. In case he’s asleep, GOB doesn’t want to wake him up by talking, so he lies there quietly, listening. He can picture JBJ in the guest room of Mark’s house, probably only wearing his boxers, all tucked in under the covers and fast asleep with the phone on the pillow next to him. GOB smiles. He turns _Pride and Prejudice_ back on, but lowers the volume until it’s almost silent, cradling the phone between his ear and his shoulder.

When GOB wakes up, it’s five in the morning and the phone is mashed against his cheek. He can hear a quiet static that suggests JBJ is still on the other line.

“JBJ,” GOB whispers. “Are you asleep?”

No answer.

“Good night,” GOB says, carefully hanging up. He drops the phone on the floor next to him and pulls a pillow down under his cheek instead. He imagines JBJ next to him as he falls back asleep.

\--

GOB can’t be a hundred percent sure what’s happening, but he’s reasonably sure he’s hooking up with JBJ on a regular basis. Despite the forget-me-nows, there have been hints—like waking up with JBJ’s mouth on his dick.

“Maybe you should start staying here, too,” JBJ suggests one day. The rest of the boys went out on business, but GOB and JBJ elected to stay back in case the absinthe was delivered, which required a signature of someone over 21. They had spent the morning playing video games in their boxers, ate an entire pizza for lunch, and then fooled around all afternoon on the floor in the living room. They’re still lying there, sticky and sweaty, and JBJ’s hands are still all over him, brushing lazily between his thighs, over his balls. GOB’s too tired to get hard again, but he likes how it feels.

GOB clears his throat. “Staying here?”

“Yeah. I mean, we all go out together all the time.” JBJ’s finger traces the line where his thigh meets his groin. “We do everything together, pretty much. You might as well be here like the rest of us.”

“That could be cool,” GOB says, trying not to show how excited he is at the prospect of living in Mark Cherry’s multimillion dollar house. He’s renting a studio apartment, but it’s full of sick bees at the moment, so he’s been sleeping in the limo when he doesn’t crash at Mark’s. A grin creeps across his face.

“There’s enough bedrooms for everybody,” JBJ adds. He scratches GOB’s hip with his nail and then goes back to cupping GOB’s balls. Despite his exhaustion, GOB feels himself stirring.

“That could be really cool,” GOB mutters. The corners of JBJ’s mouth turn up. “Are you sure Mark won’t mind?”

“Dude, no way. The more the merrier, that’s what Mark always says. Everybody loves having you around.”

Just yesterday GOB had walked in on Mark and Trout whispering in the kitchen, which had abruptly stopped when he walked in, so GOB hasn’t been totally sure that’s true. But if JBJ said it, it had to be—JBJ was Mark’s, like, best friend. They had known each other since they were kids.

“Cool.”

“All right,” JBJ says, sitting up and reaching for the pipe on the table. “They’re probably gonna be back soon so we should get dressed. Want to hit this first?”

GOB holds it up to his lips and JBJ lights it for him. It burns down his throat and he coughs, handing it back to JBJ.

“Have you ever had sex when you’re high?” GOB says suddenly, and JBJ grins.

\--

“What’s your name?” GOB screams in the ear of the girl standing next to him. He can’t hear what she says in reply, but he decides he doesn’t care. He puts his hand on the small of her back. “I bet it’s been a while since you’ve seen your…cherry.” He pulls the cherry out from behind her ear, grinning as he pops it in his mouth.

She says something else, but GOB still can’t hear. Suddenly she grabs the cherry stem out of his hand and puts it in her mouth; five seconds later she’s pulling it out. There’s a neat little knot tied in the center of it, and she did it with her tongue.

“Whoa,” GOB says, and she smiles sweetly.

After dancing a couple songs they end up with GOB pushing her against a pillar, hands on her tiny waist. She’s sucking at GOB’s mouth and he wedges his knee between her legs, letting her grind down on his thigh. It’s kind of hot, GOB decides, and he keeps cracking his eyes open to see if he can find JBJ to show off what a hot chick he snagged.

They make out for a while and GOB’s hands are up her shirt when JBJ grabs him from behind and pulls him off of her. “Paparazzo, man,” JBJ screams over the pounding music. “We need to make a quick getaway.”

GOB gestures to the brunette without saying anything else.

“Bros before hos, man,” JBJ yells. Then GOB feels JBJ’s hand come to rest on his hip, too gentle and purposeful to be mistaken for anything else.

GOB is conflicted. On the one hand, he can’t remember the last time he got any action from a fine lady. On the other hand, he doesn’t want JBJ to hate him forever, and that’s the sense he’s getting from JBJ’s soft grip. 

GOB gives the brunette one last quick kiss on the mouth before allowing himself to be led out of the club by JBJ. 

“Where’s Mark and everybody?” GOB asks, his voice hoarse from screaming. He hands the valet ticket to the well-dressed man in front. He feels dizzy.

“They’re coming, bro,” JBJ says, straightening his hat so it’s at the perfect sideways angle. “Maybe they had to stop and hide.”

“That makes sense.” 

“Who was that slut?” JBJ says quickly and calmly enough that it doesn’t even sound like he’s changing the subject.

“Who, Brenda? I don’t know, I just met her tonight,” GOB says. The valet is taking a pretty long time to return the limo. He checks his watch.

“You seemed pretty into her.” GOB’s eyes follow JBJ’s fingers as he clasps them together, then touches the brim of his hat.

“I guess.” GOB shrugs. “She was hot.”

JBJ’s eyes are burning into him. He doesn’t say anything. GOB feels the familiar clawing of guilt in his stomach. Maybe he should have stayed with her; it looks like JBJ is going to hate him anyway, and at least then he would have gotten laid.

“I met a guy in the bathroom tonight,” JBJ says just as the limo pulls up. The guilt turns into roiling jealousy, making GOB sick to his stomach. JBJ doesn’t have to say anything more; GOB’s imagination fills in the rest, and images of another guy pressed up against JBJ flash through his mind. He stalks around to the driver’s side and gets in the limo without saying anything. JBJ slides in the passenger side shortly after, scooting too close to GOB. “We barely did anything,” JBJ adds.

“I don’t want to know,” GOB says. He’s seen JBJ hook up with tons of girls when they’ve been out; he’s even cheered him on—but something about the idea of JBJ with another guy makes GOB feel like he’s going to be violently ill all over the leather seats. In a club bathroom, even. GOB doesn’t remember, exactly, but JBJ has told him enough times that’s the first place they hooked up. Enough so that it feels like he has some fuzzy memory of it.

“It didn’t mean anything,” JBJ continues. “And it really wasn’t anything enough to count.”

“I don’t want to know,” GOB repeats. He can’t bring himself to look to his right, so he stares straight ahead, watching drunk idiots stumble out of the club. All he wants to do is go home and permanently forget this night ever happened.

“He was just—there—and you were with that _girl_ …it really didn’t mean anything.”

“ _I don’t want to know._ ”

“I mean, it’s not like we’re together,” JBJ mutters, his voice hard and bitter. GOB finally looks over at him, incredulous.

“That doesn’t mean I want to hear about you fucking other guys,” he hisses.

“We didn’t fuck.”

“Or getting a handjob. Or whatever you did. I don’t want to know. I just don’t want to hear about it.” The jealousy coursing through GOB is crippling and unfamiliar. Since when does he give a fuck if the person he’s fucking fucks someone else?

As though JBJ can read his mind, he says, “I didn’t think you would care.”

“You can do whatever you want. You said yourself, we’re not together,” GOB says.

“I don’t want to upset you,” JBJ says, biting his lip and looking down. “I wouldn’t have done it if I knew you cared so much. You’re more important to me than that dude in the bathroom.”

“It doesn’t matter because we’re not in a relationship,” GOB says, trying to enunciate everything very carefully. Sometimes he feels like JBJ doesn’t hear anything he says. “You’re not my boyfriend. You’re not my wife. I don’t have a right to tell you who to fuck and who not to. So do whatever you want.”

JBJ remains quiet for a while after that. GOB exhales loudly.

“Where the fuck are the rest of the guys?”

“They’re coming,” JBJ says, fumbling with his phone but not actually looking at it. “Listen, GOB.”

JBJ almost never says his name. 

“You being happy is more important to me than getting jacked off by some random guy,” JBJ says. “I don’t want to make you unhappy.”

GOB doesn’t respond. His heart swells in his chest, but he’s not sure what he’s feeling. JBJ finally meets his eyes again and GOB immediately looks down.

“I’m not happy,” he whispers. His eyes burn.

At that moment, there’s a pounding on the roof of the limo and GOB looks around wildly. He can see Mark and Trout and everyone else, along with a large group of underdressed women. He unlocks the doors.

JBJ gets out and joins the rest of the boys in the back. As GOB drives off toward Mark’s house, they start pounding shots and the women cheer. GOB keeps looking at JBJ in the rearview mirror, trying to read his face, but he’s smiling and laughing like nothing’s wrong and GOB can’t tell what he’s thinking. He never can.

\--

“I don’t want to do this tonight,” GOB slurs. He pushes a little at JBJ’s chest and JBJ pushes back, tangling his fingers in the fabric of GOB’s silky black shirt. “I don’t think we should do this anymore. It’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” JBJ says. He’s staring at GOB’s face but his eyes are unfocused. They’ve been drinking heavily for several hours and just polished off a bottle of vodka together after the other guys all passed out.

“It’s just supposed to be for fun, right? I feel like it’s not just for fun anymore.”

“What do you mean?” JBJ says, finally looking down and letting go of GOB’s shirt. GOB tries to shrink back to get some more distance between them.

“You know what I mean.”

“Is it because—are you not—not—you know—”

“No! Yes. I don’t know!”

“But we’ve slept together a lot,” JBJ says, expressing out loud what both of them have been too scared to give a name for months. “You can’t be…straight.”

“I don’t know what I am,” GOB says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t know. He’s thought about it for hours and hours, day after day, trying to figure out what he’s doing and how it’s different and why he can’t just _stop_ , like he’s done so many times before with his past relationships based on physical pleasure. But even when he tells himself he’s going to put an end to it all, whatever this is, he has a drink or five and JBJ is always so goddamn _eager_ , and he can’t really remember what was so wrong about it in the first place—or maybe he just doesn’t care. “Look, it doesn’t have anything to do with being straight or whatever,” GOB adds, trying to clarify. “It’s just that we’ve been doing this for a while and you get jealous when I sleep with girls—”

“So do you,” JBJ shoots back. “Like the other night when I had that fucking perfect ten blonde in my bed and you came in and kicked her out and told me your fucking _chest_ hurt.”

“I don’t remember that.” GOB does feel a pang in his chest when JBJ says _perfect ten blonde_ , though.

“Probably because we didn’t fuck. You didn’t want to.” JBJ sounds bitter. “Look, GOB, I’m not saying we should get fucking gay married or some shit. I’m just saying it’d be easier if we had some…ground rules, or something.”

“What, so you can sleep with every cheap whore Mark casts off? Or every random guy you meet in the bathroom?”

“Fuck you,” JBJ says, his breathing heavy. “Like you can fucking talk.” GOB feels sick and he’s not sure if it’s from the drinking or the argument or both.

“This is why I said we should stop,” GOB says. “We just argue all the time anyway. It’d be better if we weren’t involved with each other at all. Then we can sleep with whoever we want and no one will care.”

“But I want to sleep with _you_.” There it is again—the sharp pang. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, bro, but I fucking like being with you, you dumb asshole.”

“I like being with you, too,” GOB says quietly, the truth of it settling on him slowly. JBJ has helped make him feel like he belongs somewhere in a way he’s never felt before—not with the Bluth Company, not with the Magician’s Alliance, and certainly not with his family.

“So why are you always fighting this?” JBJ tentatively reaches out and takes GOB’s hand. His thumb presses circles into GOB’s palm and the _pang, pang, pang_ in GOB’s chest isn’t going away.

“I just feel really fucked up,” GOB mutters. “I think I need to sleep.”

“Okay,” JBJ whispers. GOB can feel him watching his face for a moment before he stands, pulling GOB up with him. He leads GOB toward the guest bedroom, the one with two beds so it’s easy to pretend they’re sleeping separately. When GOB falls down onto the soft mattress, though, JBJ falls right behind him, pulling GOB close against his body and letting his arm cling tight around GOB’s stomach. They’re still holding hands.

JBJ’s nose nudges along GOB’s neck and then he presses a soft, dry kiss there. GOB swallows and closes his eyes.

\--

It’s been two weeks since Mark checked into rehab. GOB hasn’t seen his friends since. Suddenly they’re too busy with their careers to party anymore. He’s been living at the model home, eating mustard and cheese six times a day, sunning in the backyard and pretending he doesn’t care while he plots his revenge on Tony Wonder. He always catches the weekend news, though, turning it on at eight minutes past the hour. When the weather comes on.

Then, on Saturday night, exactly two weeks after the Opies and the phone call that ended GOB’s relationship with the entourage ( _Good riddance_ , GOB has been saying to no one in particular, especially after a few drinks), GOB is dead asleep when he’s abruptly awoken by the refrain of _Getaway_. 

It’s JBJ.

“Hey,” GOB answers, closing his eyes again and turning onto his side, pulling a pillow down under his arm.

“Hey,” JBJ replies, but doesn’t elaborate. They stay like that for a minute, quiet, breathing, neither one saying anything at all. GOB is almost asleep again when JBJ says, “How are you?”

“Great,” GOB says sarcastically, but he’s too tired to put any real venom behind it. He hears JBJ sigh loudly, and then it’s quiet again.

“You’re mad at me,” JBJ finally says.

“I thought you were my—” GOB cuts himself off because he’s not sure how he wants to finish the sentence.

“I thought you didn’t give a shit,” JBJ says bitterly. _Pang._

“I do give a shit,” GOB says, his throat scratchy. _You were my only friend._ He thinks it but doesn’t say it; JBJ has never reacted well to the word _friend_.

“You can’t just do that,” JBJ says. “Pretend you don’t care for 3 years and then all of a sudden you care. You never cared before.”

“I always cared,” GOB says. “I just didn’t want to. I still don’t want to. I don’t know why I do.”

“You do?” JBJ says, sounding a little kinder.

“Yeah, I fucking do,” GOB says. 

JBJ doesn’t say anything after that; neither does GOB. They don’t hang up, either. GOB doesn’t want to fall asleep with JBJ again, but at the same time, he does. He wants to end the call, but he knows he’s not strong enough.

GOB had felt exhausted when he was awoken by his phone ringing, but now he’s anxious and awake, his eyes squeezed unconvincingly shut. Minutes pass and he doesn’t want to break the silence. Finally, JBJ whispers, “GOB, are you asleep?”

GOB doesn’t respond.

“I love you,” JBJ says, a little louder. Then it goes quiet again.

GOB’s heart squeezes in his chest and doesn’t release. He feels short of breath and tilts the phone up so JBJ doesn’t hear how unsteady it is.

_I love you,_ he mouths against the pillow without making a sound. 

\--

They meet up a week later. JBJ has called him every day since, and they keep falling asleep on the phone together, whether GOB really wants to or not. Something inside of him feels as though it is physically linked to JBJ, a line connecting them through the phone, like he can’t just hang up when he wants to, like he has to see this through. It’s a terrifying feeling.

Finally, JBJ asks if he can come over, just to talk, and GOB says okay. He doesn’t want to hook up with JBJ again, but there seems to be an unstoppable force rushing through him, within him, that isn’t letting him decide for himself. GOB has never felt this way before, he realizes, and all he can think is that he doesn’t mean that in a good way. He feels completely out of control, powerless in all his decisions, because they all lead to the same end.

“Hey,” JBJ says, adjusting his hat when he arrives. 

“Hi,” GOB says and steps to the side to let him in. Just seeing his face, his quick little grin, his stupid curly hair under his hat…GOB swallows.

They have a drink—whiskey, JBJ’s favorite. He grabs for the bottle but GOB makes him pour it in a glass. They’re sitting on the couch and JBJ is rambling about last week when he totally screwed up the weekend forecast and his father nearly beat the crap out of him when he went there for dinner and how things haven’t gotten better between them and he doesn’t think they ever will, and it’s something they’ve talked about a million times before, disappointing their fathers, the fact of being a living, breathing disappointment, and GOB finds himself reaching for JBJ’s hat, pulling it off so he can see his eyes better. JBJ looks up at him and bites his lip.

“I miss you, bro,” JBJ says, looking sheepish.

“I miss you too,” GOB whispers, horrified at the prickly feeling behind his eyes.

“I can’t really talk to the other guys like this.”

“I can’t talk to anyone else like this. At all.”

JBJ looks him right in the eyes and the inevitability of what’s going to happen sinks onto GOB like a weight. It doesn’t matter that rationally, he doesn’t want this; all that matters is JBJ’s hand is on his own, fingers curling around and pressing into his palm. GOB looks down and he’s completely swept away.

JBJ is on him before he can think any more, pressing him into the couch cushions, letting his weight settle against GOB’s chest as he brings their mouths together again and again. GOB is so turned on already; he has been since JBJ walked in the door, looking at him with those dark, burning eyes. GOB has never felt this way before—in the not good way, the way that makes his heart squeeze in his chest, but also in _this_ way, which isn’t good or bad but simply _want_. He wants JBJ like he’s never wanted before, with anyone, and he doesn’t know why, and he doesn’t know how to make it stop.

JBJ seems content to just kiss him for now, and GOB is, too, letting his fingers slide along JBJ’s sides and sneak under his shirt, enjoying the feel of his bare skin. JBJ shudders into him as GOB’s hands graze his lower back and GOB can feel it too, what JBJ is feeling right now. The line connecting them is pulled taut.

JBJ’s mouth trails over GOB’s jaw, his hand gently cradling GOB’s head like he’s going to break him if he’s any rougher, and maybe he is. JBJ’s tongue flicks GOB’s ear and GOB’s fingers press into him, the feeling coursing through his entire body. It’s too much for him. GOB wants to cry, but JBJ’s mouth is holding him at the brink, keeping him suspended and still.

When JBJ’s hand brushes GOB’s groin he can’t help but shout. JBJ pulls back a little, concern clear on his face.

“Are you okay?” 

GOB tries to think of how he can possibly put into words what he’s feeling. Is he okay? Not at all. He can’t say that, so he doesn’t say anything.

“Do you want to stop?” JBJ whispers, puffs of air escaping onto GOB’s lips.

“No,” he says. “Yes. No.”

“You’re sending slightly mixed signals,” JBJ says and a laugh escapes GOB.

“That’s not like me at all,” GOB says, and now JBJ laughs.

Their eyes meet. GOB is overwhelmed with fondness.

“I don’t want this to be the last time,” JBJ says. “I want to see you again.”

“Same,” GOB says. His heart constricts and then releases in his chest. “Same.”

JBJ falls against GOB again, and the line snaps.

\--

They’ve been texting all day. GOB is excited about the job Michael gave him that morning to fill the model homes. He knows it’s just a stupid task his father told Michael to make him do so he’d keep busy and stay out of trouble, but he brags about it to JBJ like it’s something important. JBJ wants to come over but GOB tells him not to; he can’t handle it again, not right now. 

Mark always called them queers; maybe that’s what they are. JBJ isn’t the first guy GOB has been with, but he’s the first guy—or girl, for that matter—that GOB has felt this way about. When it all started, GOB had thought it would be like any other hookup, any other _relationship_ he had in the past, the ones that weren’t relationships at all. GOB had been wrong.

What makes JBJ so different than everyone else?

This is the question running through GOB’s mind as he rifles through the leather in his closet. He’s meeting George Michael in an hour; he better get ready.

\--

GOB wakes up the next morning feeling blissful before he even opens his eyes. Something feels right, comfortable, like he’s gotten back on track without even realizing he had been off.

The first thing he remembers is Tony hugging him good night. Tony had held on a little longer than GOB had been expecting, and he can still feel where Tony’s stubble scraped against his cheek, breath hot on his ear. Tony’s arms had slipped easily around his waist, GOB’s around his shoulders, and he liked how much smaller Tony was than him, the way he fit so well in GOB’s arms.

GOB smiles and squeezes his eyes shut, letting himself sink into the thought. It’s been so long since something has felt so uncomplicatedly _good_.

_Revenge_ , he reminds himself. _Tony ruined your chance at being a successful magician. Tony got you stuck in a storage locker for two weeks with nothing but candy vines._

GOB’s not sure when he went from being Tony Wonder to just Tony. He thinks about calling Michael to tell him how the evening went, but decides against it. Michael didn’t seem too on board with the whole plan when he came over yesterday. Still, he plays out the conversation in his head, what he would say if he called Michael, all the things he wants to tell him about Tony. After that, GOB spends the morning rehearsing what he’s going to say when he calls Tony to get together again. When Tobias shows up, he can barely contain his excitement because he finally gets to talk to someone about his night.

When GOB jerks off that night, he’s imagining Tony’s hand on him, Tony’s arm holding him close, Tony’s mouth on his neck. It’s been a long time since GOB has thought about anyone but JBJ when he’s getting himself off. After he finishes, he’s on the verge of sleep when his phone rings.

GOB sits straight up in bed. Could it be Tony? Where is his phone? He knows he put it on the night stand but it’s not there. He can hear the song so clearly, it has to be close by—

GOB finds it under his pillow and answers without looking at the caller ID, breathless and excited and terrified he’s going to miss the call. “Hello?”

“Is this a bad time?” It’s JBJ. GOB feels like all the air has been slammed out of him.

“N—no,” he stammers, sinking back down onto the bed.

“You sound busy.”

“I just couldn’t find my phone,” GOB says, and then curses himself. Why didn’t he say he _was_ busy, sorry, can’t talk now, lots of things going on?

“But you found it?”

“Yeah.”

A silence falls. GOB doesn’t feel too much pressure to break it. JBJ is the only one he feels comfortable sitting with, not talking, on the phone or in person or wherever. It feels okay, somehow. Except for the sharp pain starting to gnaw at GOB’s heart when he imagines JBJ sitting in his room at Mark’s house.

“Did you go out last night?” JBJ asks.

GOB’s immediate instinct is to lie—what would JBJ say if he knew GOB went to a gay club? Then he decides he doesn’t care.

“Yeah,” GOB says. “I went to the Gothic Castle for gay night. I ended up staying out pretty late.”

“Gay night?” JBJ repeats. “So are you, like, gay now?”

“I don’t know,” GOB says. “Why does everyone want everyone to have a label? Who cares?” GOB had, in fact, been repeating this mantra to himself all day.

“I thought you cared. You never wanted anyone to think you were gay.”

“Maybe I’m bisexual. I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter to me anymore,” GOB says. “Maybe if your friends weren’t so homophobic I wouldn’t have been so worried about just being myself.”

“They’re your friends, too. And they’re not homophobic.”

“Whatever.” GOB doesn’t feel like arguing tonight, but every time he and JBJ talk there’s some stupid argument about some stupid thing that ends up just being about them, in the end.

“I went to visit Mark in rehab today,” JBJ says quietly, “and I told him about us.”

“What? Why?” GOB feels panicked. 

“I don’t know. I just needed to talk to _someone_ about it that wasn’t you, okay? And Mark has always been a good listener, and he thinks I shouldn’t talk to you anymore.”

GOB’s mouth goes dry; his heart is pounding. “Is that what you want?”

There’s a pause before JBJ responds. “No, but maybe it’s what we need.”

Even with how much they argue, the thought of JBJ being out of his life is incomprehensible to GOB. He tries to concentrate on making his hands shake less as he manages to say, “I don’t want that.”

“Well, I don’t think I can see you right now.”

“Maybe we can just…talk on the phone for a while? We don’t have to stop talking completely, right?”

“I don’t know.”

GOB doesn’t respond; he doesn’t know what to say. His heart is aching so violently he feels like it’s going to spill out of his chest with every pound, pound, pound.

“Look, I’m gonna hang up, bro.” _Bro._

“Okay,” GOB whispers.

“So…bye,” JBJ says, but he waits.

“Bye,” GOB says, and he also waits.

After a moment, he looks at his phone and realizes JBJ has, in fact, hung up. GOB buries his face in his pillow and sobs.

\--

JBJ doesn’t call the next day. GOB is trying to recruit Mexicans to build a wall for the company, but for some reason the Mexicans don’t seem to want to provide cheap labor anymore. He even calls Marta to see if she can hook him up but she just hangs up on him.

When GOB is trying to put up his Help Wanted sign in the desert and Tony calls to set up their date at the Little Ballroom, it’s like a breath of fresh air. He feels light again. Everything seems like it’s going to work out. It doesn’t matter that JBJ is ignoring him; GOB is moving on.

He has himself well convinced that everything is fine until he goes to bed that night. After five minutes of continuously checking his phone to make sure he hasn’t missed a call, he realizes he’s still waiting for one, not from Tony and not from his mother. He scrolls through his address book; his thumb hovers over JBJ’s name, then he puts the phone to sleep. He repeats this three more times before he chucks it across the room and wraps his arms around his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“It’s one day,” he whispers to himself. “It’s been less than a full day since you talked to him. It’s okay.”

It takes GOB hours to fall asleep.

\--

Two nights before Cinco de Cuatro, just when GOB is getting used to seeing no missed calls from JBJ on his phone and has stopped checking quite so often, JBJ calls and just seeing his name flash up causes GOB’s heart to violently constrict in his chest.

“How have you been?” JBJ asks, his voice scratchy. It had sounded hoarse on the weekend news, too; GOB wonders if he has a cold.

“I’ve been good. Busy,” GOB says. “Doing a lot of business for the family. You know how it is. You?”

“Yeah,” JBJ says. “Me too.” There’s a pause, and then he adds, “I’ve missed talking to you.”

“Same,” GOB says, his mind flashing back to the night in Tony’s apartment. When he was with Tony, he didn’t think about JBJ at all.

“I don’t know about this whole not talking thing,” JBJ says. “It kind of sucks.”

“Maybe we just need to be friends,” GOB says, the idea coming to him suddenly. “Just friends.”

“You think we can do that?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“You think if we get together, say, at your place, and get drunk, we’re not going to mess around?”

GOB thinks about the connection he always feels when he’s talking to JBJ, when JBJ is near him. The line pulled between them.

“We can try, can’t we?”

“What happens if we end up hooking up anyway?”

“That’s not going to happen,” GOB says firmly. “We’re not animals. We can control ourselves.”

“Only one way to find out, I guess,” JBJ says. “Want to hang out tomorrow?”

“Yes,” GOB says. “Come over at seven, bring the whiskey, and I’ll show you how celibate I can be.”

“It’s a date,” JBJ says and GOB feels the words like a punch in the chest. He doesn’t say anything. “I’m kidding,” JBJ adds. “It’s…a…friend hang-out.”

“Yeah,” GOB says. “Okay.”

The conversation is over, but neither of them hangs up. GOB slips further under the covers and closes his eyes.

“My phone’s gonna run out of battery soon,” he murmurs. He suddenly feels so tired.

“That’s okay,” JBJ says back. “I’ll hang up then.”

GOB wants to say something about how when your phone runs out of battery, the call is ended automatically, so JBJ isn’t going to be hanging up. But that seems like too much work.

“Night, bro,” JBJ says.

“Good night,” GOB whispers.

They stay on the line.

\--

JBJ arrives at 7:30pm on the night before Cinco. He looks nice. GOB remembers the last time JBJ showed up on his doorstep, and how good it felt when JBJ got him off that night just using his hands. GOB had forgotten to take a forget-me-now. He knows he has a couple left, in case he really fucks up tonight. The thought of sleeping with JBJ when he has a sex date with Tony tomorrow makes him extremely uncomfortable, though he’s not sure why; he’s had sex with multiple women in the same night, after all. It’s just sex. Why should this be any different? It doesn’t matter, anyway, because this is a friend hang-out, and they’re not going to have sex.

“Come on in,” GOB says, gesturing exaggeratedly with a hand twirl. His face flushes at his own stupidity.

“Thank you,” JBJ replies in the same stilted, exaggerated way. GOB smiles and relaxes a little. It’s just JBJ, the same JBJ he’s been friends with for years now.

“Do you want something to drink? Or eat? We could order a pizza or something,” GOB suggests. 

“Maybe later,” JBJ says. “I’ll take you up on that drink, though.”

“Whiskey?”

“I was actually thinking wine. I had some earlier so I kind of want to keep drinking the same thing.”

“Red wine?” GOB thinks guiltily of Tony. 

“Perfect,” JBJ says. They shuffle towards the kitchen. GOB tries to figure out why this is so weird. They’ve hung out so many times before. They lived together in Mark’s house. They’ve had sex pretty much anywhere you can think of. GOB is a level of comfortable with JBJ that he doesn’t know if he ever has been with another person. So why is this so weird?

He pulls the cork and pours JBJ a glass, then himself. They cheers. The gulp GOB takes is so huge that he accidentally dribbles a little down his chin and he coughs, wiping his face with the back of his hand. JBJ smiles.

“Uh, do you want to watch TV or something?” GOB says, walking towards the living room with the bottle. JBJ follows.

“Sure,” he replies. They sit down on opposite sides of the couch at the same time and GOB turns on the TV.

“Planet Earth!” GOB cries excitedly. 

“I love this show,” JBJ says.

“Do you want to watch?”

“Yeah!”

GOB notices JBJ’s glass of wine is already empty. He drains his own and refills them both. The episode is about caves. GOB and JBJ both snort simultaneously when the narrator talks about the cockroaches that feed on the guano.

“Dude, that is sick,” JBJ says, laughing.

“Haven’t you ever eaten bat shit?” GOB says, deadpan. “It’s delicious.”

“You have not eaten bat shit, bro.”

“I have too! My mom serves it every Christmas!”

JBJ doubles over in laughter. GOB goes to refill his wine glass and realizes the bottle is empty.

“Should I open another one?” he says, feeling more confident. He and JBJ can totally have a fun, platonic time together. They’re great as just friends.

“Yeah, I need to wash this guano taste out of my mouth,” JBJ says. GOB wheezes in laughter.

He brings the bottle back over to the couch and JBJ pats the cushion next to him. “Don’t be a stranger, bro.” GOB settles in next to him, trying not to pay attention to the way JBJ’s thigh is pressed up next to his. GOB takes a swig straight from the bottle and passes it to JBJ.

“This is fun,” GOB says, smiling. JBJ takes a drink and lets his hand fall on GOB’s knee. GOB feels his heart speed up, but tells himself he’s overreacting. Friends touch each other. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

The second bottle doesn’t take long for them to polish off, and GOB decides he is officially drunk.

“I’m drunk,” he tells JBJ, whose hand is still on his knee, rubbing slow circles into his inner thigh.

“Me too,” JBJ says. Their eyes meet. GOB debates whether he should escape to the other end of the couch, but before he can decide, JBJ is kissing him. It feels so inevitable that GOB doesn’t do anything but fall into the kiss completely, letting his hands come to rest on JBJ’s waist as he presses him into the cushions. JBJ moans.

“I want you to fuck me,” JBJ breathes when they break apart for air.

“We’re not even supposed to be making out,” GOB says, his brain foggy from the wine and JBJ’s stupid, perfect mouth. He puts his hand on the back of JBJ’s head and slips his tongue in JBJ’s mouth. JBJ’s fingers grasp at his back.

“I mean, I want you to really fuck me,” JBJ murmurs against his mouth after several minutes. “Like, in the ass.”

GOB sits up a little straighter and stares at JBJ. 

“I’ve been thinking about it,” JBJ continues. “I know we’ve never really done anything like that before and it’s kind of gay and whatever, but I can’t stop thinking about it and I just want to feel you. Inside of me.”

“That is kind of gay,” GOB says, his mind trying to work too hard for how drunk he feels. “Do you want more wine?”

“Yeah,” JBJ says and GOB runs to the kitchen for another bottle. When he returns, JBJ hasn’t moved, and GOB tucks himself back under JBJ’s arm. He takes a large drink and then passes the bottle to JBJ, who takes one as well.

“We don’t have to,” JBJ says after a moment.

“No, I think…I think it’s okay,” GOB says, his insides churning. If he fucks JBJ in the ass, is he officially gay?

“We’re not even supposed to be doing this.” JBJ doesn’t sound too guilty about it, though.

“I want to,” GOB says, trying to sound sure of himself despite the fact that he’s terrified. He thinks of how he’s supposed to have sex with Tony tomorrow night in this very house and gets a brief flash of nausea.

“I want you to so bad,” JBJ breathes and kisses GOB’s mouth. GOB is still thinking about Tony. _Why_ is he still thinking about Tony? Why does he feel so fucking guilty? He knows he’s not supposed to fuck JBJ, but it feels wrong for way more reasons than just the fact that they’re not in a relationship. 

“GOB,” JBJ says, and GOB’s heart squeezes in his chest. He loves when JBJ says his name. “Please.”

GOB gives in, finally, fully and completely, allowing himself to relax against JBJ’s chest and sliding their tongues together. He loves the way JBJ licks inside his mouth, over and over, persistent and slick, and he loves the way JBJ’s hands can never seem to stop moving all over his back and neck and head and chest, and why does he always fight this so hard? 

JBJ pulls GOB’s shirt up over his head and throws it across the room. The _Planet Earth_ narrator’s voice drones on in the background and GOB lets his hands wander down JBJ’s back and slip under his boxers. He squeezes JBJ’s ass and JBJ groans into his mouth. GOB has done that a million times, but for the first time he lets his hand wander toward the center and slides his finger along JBJ’s cleft. JBJ shudders into him and arousal rushes through GOB. Maybe he _is_ gay.

“I want…bedroom,” GOB murmurs. “I have….stuff.”

“Stuff?” JBJ says, pushing GOB off him and standing up. He reaches his hand out to help GOB.

“Stuff,” GOB confirms, allowing himself to be pulled up and then leading JBJ to the stairs.

Once they make it into the bedroom, GOB yanks JBJ’s shirt up and off over his head before working at the belt of his cargo pants. JBJ is making it sort of difficult as he attempts to grind their hips together, sucking at GOB’s neck, tongue pulsing against the skin. 

“Naked,” GOB manages to say between moans and JBJ finally lets him unzip his shorts and push them, along with his boxers, to the ground. JBJ steps out of them and pushes GOB back until he falls against the bed, mouthing along the waistband of his pants before undoing them himself and pulling them off. GOB reaches for him but JBJ keeps pushing, sucking wetly on GOB’s hip bone and taking his cock in hand as he kneels on the ground in front of him. GOB brushes JBJ’s curly hair up off his forehead as JBJ licks the tip of his cock before swallowing him completely. GOB bites his lip and groans, allowing himself to fall flat back on the bed, his hands wandering up his own chest. JBJ’s hands follow, finding his nipple and pinching lightly. GOB laces their fingers together, holding their hands close to his own pounding heart.

JBJ crawls up to meet GOB’s mouth with his own and GOB feels like he can’t hold JBJ close enough; he wants to kiss him forever. JBJ’s erection presses against GOB’s thigh.

He lets his hands slide down JBJ’s spine until they reach his ass. He runs his finger along the cleft again, and then delves deeper, finding JBJ’s hole and rubbing against it without pressing inside. JBJ is moaning against his mouth, his hips moving slowly, pushing back against GOB’s fingers.

“Wait,” GOB says, scrambling up the mattress to reach toward the bedside table. “Stuff.” He pulls the drawer open and takes out the bottle of lube he had bought in preparation for his night with Tony—just in case. He feels a twinge of guilt that he tries to shake off as he pulls JBJ up closer to him and kisses him again.

“I see,” JBJ says with a small smile. “ Gay stuff.”

“Yeah,” GOB says, feeling the blush spread across his cheeks. He rubs his thumb into JBJ’s hip bone. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“I don’t know,” JBJ says. “I mean, however.”

“It could be, like, doggy-style, I guess,” GOB says, thinking of how he’s usually done it with girls. “If you want.”

“I guess,” JBJ says. “Does that mean I should turn over?”

“I guess.” JBJ does and GOB presses a kiss to his shoulder before kissing his way down JBJ’s spine. He reaches JBJ’s ass, pale white and perky, and stares at it, letting his hand brush over the skin. 

“Just tell me before you’re gonna do it, okay?” JBJ says, his voice muffled by the pillow he’s pressing his face into. 

“What if I do it with my fingers first?” GOB says, popping open the cap of the small bottle of lube. He squirts some on his fingers and rubs them together.

“Okay,” JBJ says.

“We don’t have to do this,” GOB says suddenly, because JBJ sounds scared and he remembers that really, they don’t. They’ve done fine so far with handjobs and blowjobs and grinding and humping each other; he hasn’t had any complaints to speak of.

JBJ turns his head so that he’s looking in GOB’s eyes. “I want to.” GOB nods. JBJ presses his face back into the pillow and GOB slowly spreads JBJ’s cheeks before rubbing slick fingers against his hole. JBJ moans.

“I’m going to do one finger now, okay?” GOB says.

“Yeah,” JBJ says, and GOB presses one finger inside him. It’s amazing to GOB how easily it goes in, how his finger gets swallowed up. It feels hot inside and JBJ’s ass clamps around him.

“Relax,” GOB says, rubbing JBJ’s lower back with his other hand. He presses in slowly until he’s as far as he can go; then he pulls it back out, equally slowly, and JBJ groans.

“Holy fuck, that feels weird,” he says.

“Do you want me to stop?” GOB asks, the tip of his finger still inside JBJ.

“No.”

GOB slides his finger in and out again, and then again, speeding up a little when JBJ doesn’t protest, just makes sweet little noises that encourage him on. He fucks JBJ like this for a little while, feeling around inside of him, and at one point JBJ moans so loud it’s almost a shout and he clutches the pillow with his hands.

“Jesus, are you okay?” GOB asks, stilling his finger. JBJ’s ass forces him deeper inside as he presses back against him.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” JBJ says. “Right fucking there.” 

GOB looks for the spot again, grinning when he finds it and JBJ writhes around on his finger, letting out an extended groan. GOB sees JBJ reach for his own cock, jerking himself off, and GOB is so hard he aches.

“Fuck,” JBJ mumbles into the pillow, hand moving slowly beneath him. “GOB, fuck me. Please.”

“O—okay,” GOB stutters. He looks at his finger inside JBJ’s ass and shivers at the thought of putting his dick there. He doesn’t like that he can’t see JBJ’s face. “Hey, will you…turn over? Maybe we can do it that way.” He lets his finger slide out of JBJ and JBJ flips around, his gaze intently on GOB.

“Are you sure?” he says uncertainly.

“I want to see you,” GOB says, feeling as uncertain as JBJ sounds. This is all new territory for him but he doesn’t like the idea of fucking JBJ like he would a girl, humping her into the mattress and not seeing her or kissing her. He kisses JBJ now, just because he can, and JBJ fucking melts into him like he’s been waiting for this all along.

“Okay,” JBJ whispers, and GOB grabs a pillow and puts it under JBJ’s hips, spreading his legs apart and letting his fingers find JBJ’s hole again. He slips a finger in and out again until JBJ says, “GOB, please.”

“Okay,” GOB says nervously and looks around for the bottle of lube. He pops it open and squeezes what feels like half of it into his hand, slathering his cock and then rubbing the extra on JBJ’s ass. “I’m gonna do it now.”

“Yes,” JBJ says, eyes half-closed but still staring intently at GOB. GOB tries to position himself well, but it’s hard. Finally, he puts JBJ’s legs up over his chest, knees hooking over his shoulders, and looks down. It’s going to be fine, GOB tells himself, and then, one hand holding the base of his cock, he guides himself into JBJ.

He presses slowly forward before letting go of himself, his hands coming up to cradle JBJ’s face. Once he’s fully inside of him, he stays there for a moment, not wanting to do anything too quick and sudden. He touches his lips to JBJ’s and they breathe into each other for a moment, not really kissing, while JBJ adjusts to the feel of him.

“Are you okay?” GOB asks, so turned on he thinks he might die if JBJ says no. JBJ nods slowly and threads his fingers through GOB’s hair.

“Kiss me,” he says and GOB surges forward, tangling their tongues together desperately and forcing his hips to stay completely still. They stay like that for a moment, moving nothing but their mouths, until JBJ says, “Now fuck me.”

GOB just looks at him for a moment, and JBJ nods reassuringly. GOB pulls out almost completely and then slams back into him, out and then in again, trying to get in a rhythm, but it’s hard with the way that JBJ’s legs are in between them, the way it’s so fucking slippery that his cock keeps slipping out. Finally, JBJ grips GOB’s head between his hands and pulls him in for a kiss, and from then GOB feels a little calmer, more focused, like it’s a little easier to do this. JBJ is gasping every time GOB’s hips snap and GOB thinks that’s a good thing, and now that he’s not so nervous he’s going to split JBJ in half, it’s all feeling pretty fucking amazing. JBJ’s ass is swallowing his cock, sucking at him hungrily, and JBJ is groaning and thrashing his head back and forth on the pillow, and now all GOB has to really concentrate on is the way he feels, knowing he’s inside JBJ, and how JBJ seems to like it so fucking much. 

GOB is overwhelmed. He feels a familiar prickling at the back of his eyelids so he presses his mouth against JBJ’s and JBJ holds his head there, mashing their tongues together. GOB has never felt this close to a person before; he feels like all of himself is on display, for JBJ to take.

He keeps thrusting and JBJ is clamping tightly around him, hot and sweet, and GOB groans again and again while he comes, pressing their foreheads together as he moves his hips. JBJ holds him through it, clutching at him like he can feel GOB’s orgasm, too. When he’s finished, he slips out of JBJ’s ass and JBJ groans as GOB moves to the side, allowing his legs to come slowly down.

“Are you okay?” GOB murmurs, eyeing JBJ’s hard cock. JBJ nods, smiling a little. All GOB really wants to do is pass out, but he takes JBJ in his grip, and he figures that that’s what love is.

“Are _you_ okay?” It’s JBJ’s turn to ask. GOB starts jerking him off, everything slick with lube.

“I love you,” GOB says, his eyes not leaving JBJ’s, and then touches their lips together.

“I love you,” JBJ says, thrusting into GOB’s hand. He comes quickly, spurting onto his stomach, and GOB kisses his chest before licking up the mess. JBJ’s fingers play with GOB’s hair and GOB presses a kiss to his softening cock before settling into JBJ’s arms again. JBJ kisses his forehead once, twice, pulling GOB tightly against him, and GOB lets him because he wants to.

“We’re good at being friends,” JBJ whispers dryly. GOB doesn’t even want to think about the rules they set or Tony, who he’s supposed to be having gay sex with tomorrow in this very bed. “GOB, I think this is how it’s supposed to be.”

GOB doesn’t respond.

\--

GOB wakes up to the sound of running water from the shower. He blinks and settles himself up on his elbows, looking around. The sheets are mussed and GOB’s entire front is covered with sticky, tacky lube, but otherwise everything seems normal. He gets up and goes into the bathroom. JBJ smiles at him when he walks in and GOB attempts to smile back, but his heart isn’t in it.

GOB takes a piss and then opens the shower door, stepping in with JBJ. The water is warm and JBJ pulls him closer so that they’re both under the spray. His hands lock around GOB’s waist and JBJ kisses him.

“I’m gross,” GOB says. He gestures to his chest between them.

“That’s what showers are for,” JBJ says, reaching for the bar of soap. He runs it over GOB’s shoulders and down to his stomach, lathering him up and wiping away at the mess. GOB lets his hands fall on JBJ’s hips. Despite how close they are, the space between them seems cavernous.

They take turns washing each other, only stopping for a couple brief kisses. Once they’ve gotten dressed, they head downstairs.

“So, do you want coffee or anything?” GOB asks, moving toward the kitchen, but JBJ stops him at the front door.

“No, it’s okay,” JBJ says.

“Good, because I don’t have any coffee.”

JBJ laughs. “I have to get to the station. I guess I should go home and change first, too.”

“Okay,” GOB says, feeling awkward. What is he supposed to say now?

“Thanks,” JBJ says quietly, taking GOB’s hand. “For last night. I had a really great time.”

“Same,” GOB says, and he is suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. He and JBJ weren’t supposed to hook up last night. They were supposed to be just friends. Now he was getting together with Tony and he’d just hooked up with JBJ in the same bed using the same lube he had bought for his night with Tony. What the _fuck_ was wrong with him?

“Can I call you later?”

“I—yeah, I guess. I have plans later, though. For Cinco. So I might be busy.”

“Oh. Okay.” JBJ drops his hand and looks down. GOB’s heart pounds. He’s such a fucking asshole.

“But we’ll definitely talk later, okay?” GOB’s voice is overly enthusiastic; it sounds fake, even to him. He pulls JBJ into a hug, one hand cradling the back of his head. JBJ clings to him.

“I love you,” JBJ mutters against GOB’s neck.

“I love you, too,” GOB whispers. He puts his hand on the side of JBJ’s face and kisses him.

“Later,” JBJ says when they finally break apart.

“Talk to you soon,” GOB says. JBJ smiles at him and walks out the door.

\--

JBJ texts him all afternoon. GOB texts back reluctantly while he tries on several different shirts, trying to figure out what to wear that night. When JBJ asks what his plans are for Cinco, exactly, GOB doesn’t respond right away, not knowing what to say. Several minutes later, before he’s said anything back, his phone beeps again.

_Meeting a guy?_

GOB reads the message a few times and then writes back, _Remember, we decided to be just friends._ He is officially the biggest asshole on earth. Self-loathing rises within him like bile. He sits down on the bed and stares at his phone, waiting for JBJ to write back. Finally, the screen lights up.

_Let’s not try to be friends when we know we’re not._

A minute later, a second text comes through.

_I loved you._

There is a finality to the text that hits GOB so hard he feels bowled over. He breaks down crying, mashing his face into the pillow, getting tears and snot all over it. He cries for twenty minutes and then he lets himself breathe again; he gets up and goes downstairs to get a glass of water. Then he sits at the dining room table and reads the texts again and again before responding.

_I loved you too._

\--

When GOB realizes it’s Tony who is in bed with him that night, all he can think to say is, “You.”

“You!” Tony replies, pulling at the mask on GOB’s face. It’s a relief when it’s off; GOB has been sweating profusely since he put it on and lay in the dark, shaking his leg and waiting. He pulls the mask off Tony, too, and squints, trying to see him in the darkness. “What are you doing here?”

“What are _you_ doing here?” GOB says accusatorily. “You’re supposed to be Egg.”

“Who?”

GOB fumbles for the lamp switch and flips it on. He eyes Tony and Tony eyes him back.

“You don’t have to keep lying. I know you’re straight,” GOB says.

“I know _you’re_ straight!” 

“I don’t like labels,” GOB says, feeling sensitive about his own inability to put a name to what he is.

“Same,” Tony says. They haven’t broken eye contact. GOB is feeling a lot more turned on now that he knows Ann left.

“Why did you lie?” GOB asks suddenly.

“I told you, it’s not about being gay or whatever—“

“I mean, about...when you said you had feelings for me.”

“That wasn’t a lie. And you lied about that first.”

“I wasn’t lying!”

“Well, neither was I!”

“Same!” 

GOB suddenly remembers that all he’s wearing is a black mini-robe and he feels incredibly self-conscious, along with confused. Tony is straight but wasn’t lying about having feelings for him? How is that possible?

“I like you,” Tony says out of nowhere, and before GOB can think of what to say in response Tony climbs across the bed, takes GOB’s face in his hands and kisses him. GOB kisses back, arousal flaring up in his belly. Tony’s not gentle—his stubble scratches GOB’s chin and his tongue is practically down GOB’s throat, and GOB has to hang on to him so that he doesn’t get pushed off the bed. GOB tries to push him back a little but Tony just flings him down onto the mattress and climbs on top of him.

“Have you done this before?” GOB says breathlessly when Tony’s mouth moves to his neck, sucking hard. “With a guy, I mean?”

“Yeah,” Tony says and rips GOB’s robe wide open. GOB doesn’t even time to feel self-conscious now because Tony’s hand is already on his cock. “Have you?”

“Yes,” GOB groans, fisting his hand in the back of Tony’s shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this with you since you came over,” Tony murmurs in GOB’s ear, licking along the shell and nipping at his earlobe. His hand grips GOB’s cock and moves smoothly, slowly, a sweet burn starting to build up in GOB’s groin.

“Same,” GOB says breathlessly and then moans when Tony finds the spot just below his earlobe and _sucks_.

“God, you’re noisy,” Tony says. “That’s so hot.” He kisses GOB again, open-mouthed and full of tongue. GOB tugs pathetically at Tony’s shirt, wanting to take it off but not wanting to break apart from the kiss. Tony sits back for a moment, straddling GOB’s lap, and yanks it over his head. GOB grabs for his belt and pulls at it, undoing his pants too and pushing them down around his hips. Then Tony’s cock is there, all of a sudden, and he presses it up against GOB’s and then puts his hand around them both, and GOB grabs the back of his neck and pulls him down for another kiss. Tony’s hips move slowly against his and GOB is close to delirious; it all feels fucking amazing.

GOB loves how confident Tony is—practically shameless, writhing against him and fisting their cocks, his mouth on GOB’s jaw and lips and neck. GOB’s thighs keep tensing up as Tony strokes them together, his toes curling and uncurling, unable to stop himself from groaning almost continuously. GOB comes with Tony’s tongue on his ear, licking him in between murmuring “That’s it, baby, that’s good, God, you’re fucking sexy.”

Once GOB finishes, Tony collapses on top of him, his erection still pressing against GOB’s belly. He kisses GOB slow and sweet, thumb tracing GOB’s forehead. GOB clings to his back, feeling vulnerable and wanting to keep him close.

“How did that feel?” Tony says against his lips, then presses their foreheads together.

“Amazing,” GOB says honestly. It isn’t just the orgasm, either, he’s realizing; it’s everything, everything between them, which despite the masks and the straightness and the revenge and everything else, feels perfectly simple and uncomplicated compared to what he had with JBJ. Tony likes him and he likes Tony. GOB smiles.

“What are you smiling about?” Tony says, grinning himself.

“Nothing,” GOB says. He rolls to one side, pushing Tony down on the bed next to him. “I like this.” He grips Tony’s cock and presses a series of kisses to his lips. Tony thrusts into his hand, short, quick movements that tell GOB he’s not going to last long. GOB almost wants to drag it out, to tease him, to touch every part of his body, but as he looks at Tony’s face, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open, panting, GOB thinks, _we’ll have time for that later_.

Tony reaches for GOB, pressing their mouths together right as he comes, and GOB feels giddy and powerful. He holds Tony close, stroking him through his orgasm and then wrapping his arm around Tony’s back. Tony settles in against him and GOB can feel the tension in his body draining out of him. He’s reminded of how much smaller Tony is than him, how perfectly he fits in GOB’s arms. 

Tony half-sighs, half-moans, and GOB laughs, tangling their legs together. He feels light and happy. It’s as though something has clicked into place; the crushing guilt that he always feels after fucking JBJ never comes, and he holds Tony for a long time.

\--

GOB doesn’t know what happened after Tony left; all he knows is that the first thing Tony did was forget him. GOB has spent so long forgetting that he never thought about what it feels like to be the memory someone else wants to dispose of. As he finishes shaving, bile rises in his throat.

He had fooled himself into thinking this was simple and straightforward, and the realization that it’s not makes him want to run far, far away, before he fucks everything up even further. He decides to call Tony back and tell him the sex date is off, it’s over, they’re done.

The phone barely rings before Tony picks up.

“Gobie!” Tony answers cheerfully. “Did you get my message?”

“Yeah!” GOB says, trying to muster up some enthusiasm and failing.

“Is everything okay?” Tony says. “Are we still on for tonight?”

“I have to tell you something,” GOB says, steeling himself to put an end to it.

“What’s up?”

GOB promptly chickens out. “Um, is eight o’clock okay?”

“Perfect.”

“And you have the address, right?”

“Yep. I’ll see you soon, Gobie.”

“See you soon,” GOB echoes and hangs up. He thuds his fist against his forehead three times and then collapses onto the couch, dropping the phone on the floor. He’ll talk to Tony tonight. For now, maybe a nap will help him feel better.

\--

This time, when Tony arrives at the model home, GOB is fully clothed and sitting at the dining room table, staring at his phone. Tony knocks and lets himself in without waiting for GOB to answer.

“Hello?” Tony calls, and GOB jumps up, rushing toward the entryway.

“Hey!” he calls back, nervous and excited. “Hey, Tony!”

“Hey, GOB,” Tony says with a smile and holds out his arms. GOB hugs him quickly, knowing that if he holds on too long things could go downhill fast.

“How are you?” GOB says, leading Tony toward the kitchen.

“Good, I’m good. I’ve had this crazy headache all day, though. Don’t know why. I can’t remember doing anything too insane last night.” Tony sits down at the breakfast bar.

“Do you want some ibuprofen or something?” GOB says. Headaches are a symptom of forget-me-now usage. He narrows his eyes.

“No, I took some already. Thanks, though.” 

GOB pours them both a glass of red wine and Tony smiles, holding it up to clink against GOB’s.

“Maybe this will help. Cheers, Gobie,” he says and takes a sip.

“Cheers,” GOB echoes, taking a decidedly large swallow and then setting his glass on the counter. “Listen, Tony, I have to talk to you about something.”

“What’s up?”

Tony looks at him so innocently, eyes wide, like he has no idea what’s going on—and he doesn’t, GOB reminds himself, because he’s forgotten everything that happened.

“Today isn’t Cinco,” GOB finally manages to say. “I mean, it is Cinco. But it’s Cinco de Mayo, not Cinco de Cuatro.” 

That wasn’t what he wanted to say. He had been planning to tell Tony it was over. Tony stares at him.

“Yesterday was Cinco de Cuatro, and you came over.” The truth spills out of GOB like some mysterious force is thrusting it out of him.

“No, I didn’t,” Tony says slowly and clearly, as though talking to a child. “Today is Cinco, and that’s why I’m here now. For our sex date. We planned it weeks ago.”

“I know,” GOB says. “And we had it. Last night. We had sex last night.” It feels good to say that out loud, he thinks. The look on Tony’s face after he says it doesn’t inspire quite the same feeling.

“GOB, that’s impossible. If that happened, then why don’t I remember it? I have a photographic memory.”

“I think you took a forget-me-now,” GOB says. “I mean…it’s like a roofie.”

“You roofied me?” Tony says, standing up suddenly and taking a couple steps backward. 

“No! No, Tony, I would never!”

“Then why can’t I remember anything?” Tony looks really scared. The talk isn’t going quite how GOB had wanted.

“I think you took one…or someone gave one to you…I don’t know! You were here and we had sex! Twice! And we talked a lot. Then my brother Michael showed up and saw you and you ran off.” GOB decides to leave out the part about how he roofied his brother, in case it would make Tony think worse of him. “I didn’t know where you went. I don’t know what happened after you left.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Tony says. He glances toward the front door behind him and then apparently thinks better of it, because he sits back down and picks up his wine, taking a long drink. GOB moves around the counter and sits in the bar stool next to him, putting his hand on Tony’s knee.

“Look,” he says. “I don’t know what happened. We had a really amazing night—I mean, I thought we did. And now I don’t know, maybe you just wanted to forget everything that happened between us.” GOB’s eyes prickle in that familiar, embarrassing way, and he stares into his lap so Tony doesn’t see the tears welling up. He feels stupid for making this all about him when Tony doesn’t even know if he roofied himself or not. Tony has bigger things to worry about.

“GOB.” Tony reaches one hand out and tentatively rubs his thumb along GOB’s cheek. “Look at me.”

GOB forces himself to look up, biting the inside of his lip to stop himself from really crying. The look on Tony’s face is so tender and loving that it makes GOB want to cry even more.

“Obviously, I don’t know what happened either, but I know it wasn’t that.” Tony’s hand cups GOB’s cheek. “I’ve been looking forward to this ever since that night you came over.”

“But you’re straight,” GOB blurts out. Tony stares at him. “I mean, we talked about it last night. I know you’re a fake gay.”

“Did we talk last night about how I can’t stop thinking about you and how I can’t remember ever feeling this excited about being with another person before?” 

“I guess we did talk about that a little bit,” GOB mutters, unable to hide his smile. “I might have said I felt—same.”

“Did you?” Tony says, his hand falling to GOB’s neck and tracing along his hairline.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“GOB,” Tony murmurs, leaning in toward him. “I can’t remember what happened last night, so maybe you can help jog my memory.”

“How?” GOB says. “I don’t think you can recover from a forget-me-now like that. I mean, not that I know very much about—”

Tony cuts him off with a kiss. GOB makes a little surprised _hmpf_ noise before leaning into it, settling his hands on Tony’s thighs. The kiss lasts a long time, and when Tony pulls back and meets his eyes, GOB’s heart collapses somewhere near the floor.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” he manages to say, and Tony nods.

\--

“So what’s the deal with your boyfriend?” Tony asks a few days later. They’re lounging on the couch at his place, sort of watching TV but sort of just talking. Tony’s lying with his head in GOB’s lap and GOB likes the way he can feel the vibrations of Tony’s voice through his leg.

“That’s over,” GOB says, but his heart clenches at the thought of JBJ. He hasn’t talked to him since their text messages on Cinco, and GOB has been doing pretty well about not checking his phone obsessively. It helps that he can text Tony now, or call him, or see him when he wants to, and he’s started associating his ringtone with excitement rather than dread.

“What went on between you two?”

GOB tightens his jaw.

“Not much.”

“Gobie, your entire body just got tense when I asked you about him.”

“It’s over,” GOB says, trying to sound sure of himself. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

“No!” GOB shouts. Tony sits up and looks at him. “I mean…I might not be a hundred percent over it yet. But that doesn’t mean my feelings for you aren’t real.”

“I get it,” Tony says. “I get it. I just want you to be honest with me.” He snuggles in against GOB’s side, and GOB lets his arm fall around Tony’s shoulders.

“I’m not a hundred percent over it,” GOB finally says. “It was kind of a messed up…thing.” He doesn’t want to say relationship. Was it a relationship? They never called it a relationship.

“How long were you guys together?”

“Well, we were never technically together. But kind of, sort of for like three years, on and off and in a messed up way.”

“Wow,” Tony says. “That’s a long time to be in a messed up thing.”

“It’s really over now, though,” GOB says. “Like really officially. We’re not even talking anymore.”

“Since when?”

“Um. Since Cinco.”

Tony laughs. 

“I know that doesn’t seem like a long time, but it’s for real this time,” GOB adds. “It felt over for a long time before that, anyway. We just kept…having sex.”

“So you’re, like, really gay?” Tony says, looking up at him.

“I don’t know,” GOB says. “I don’t like labels.”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Same.”

_Same_ , GOB mouths along with him.

They’re quiet for a minute. GOB lets his fingers twist around Tony’s hair, pulling a little at the really short ones in the back.

“I have to tell you something,” Tony says. “If we’re being honest.”

GOB has been so distracted by Tony’s hair that he hadn’t noticed Tony tapping his foot, biting at his lips uncomfortably. GOB’s mind races with a million different possibilities of what it could be before he finally says, “What?”

“I just want to preface this by saying things have changed, now,” Tony says. “I’m not doing this with you for the same reasons I’m about to tell you about. I really like you.”

“You’re making me nervous,” GOB says, sitting up a little straighter and removing his arm from Tony’s shoulders. He clasps his hands together in his lap and forces a laugh, trying to keep it light, even though he’s terrified.

“Remember that this doesn’t change anything between us, okay?” GOB just looks at him, so Tony continues. “Before we got together, I was only trying to get with you to steal your boyfriend’s information so I could hack into Fakeblock and get some money from it.”

“Oh, the inventor of Fakeblock isn’t my boyfriend. That’s my nephew.” GOB is relieved at the mix-up.

“Weren’t you with him at my show at the Gothic Castle? You said he bit your tongue.”

“Right. I was just doing that to make it look like I had a boyfriend. He didn’t bite my tongue.”

“So who is this other guy you were having a messed up thing with? Why didn’t he go with you?”

“No one. Our thing was messed up, that’s why he didn’t go with me, okay? Isn’t this supposed to be about you and how you wanted to betray me?”

“I didn’t want to betray you! I mean, I guess I did. But that was before I really knew you.” Tony looks up and meets GOB’s eyes. “But I’ve been in sort of a messed up thing myself.”

GOB now recognizes the feeling that courses through him as jealousy. “With who?”

“Whom,” Tony corrects him, and GOB dramatically rolls his eyes. “Sorry. And it’s—it’s Sally Sitwell. I think you know her.”

“Know her,” GOB repeats. “Of course I know her. Her father was like a second father to me once.”

“She just—she’s the one who helped rebrand me as the gay magician, and she took a lot of money from Lucille Austero to do it, and I always felt like I owed my success from that to her. And usually she just wanted sex, and someone to bounce ideas off of, and I could do that, and it was easy, and nice to get laid once in a while. But I think…I think she might have something to do with why I can’t remember the night of Cinco.”

“You think she gave you the forget-me-now?”

“Think about it. You said I left here when your brother came and saw us, right? That was around the same time that Lucille was last seen alive. And now Sally is taking her place in the election. What if Sally did something to her, and I saw something I shouldn’t have, so Sally roofied me?”

“That does make sense,” GOB says. “Actually, that makes perfect sense.” 

Tony is nodding and GOB nods along with him.

“Wait a second, why would you have seen Sally after you left here?”

“Look.” Tony digs into his pants pocket for his phone and the screen lights up as he swipes his fingers across it. He hands it to GOB, who sees three missed calls from Sally Sitwell on the night of Cinco de Cuatro. “She was trying to get in touch with me. Probably when you and I were…”

“Fucking?” GOB finishes with a wide, proud grin. 

“Yeah,” Tony says, smiling a little too, but it quickly fades. “I wish I could remember.”

GOB takes Tony’s hand in his. “So, do you still have to deal with Sally?”

“I think I’m off the hook,” Tony says, turning businesslike again. “She’s so busy with the election. And with Lucille gone, she doesn’t owe anyone anything, so I don’t really owe her anything anymore. She hasn’t contacted me since Cinco.”

“Good,” GOB says, rubbing his thumb into Tony’s palm.

“But I wanted to tell you everything, and I’ll tell you if something else comes up with it all. Okay?”

GOB nods and then leans forward for a kiss. Tony places his hands on either side of GOB’s face and stops him right before their lips touch.

“And you’ll tell me if you hear from your boyfriend?”

“Not my boyfriend and never was, but okay.”

“Just because you didn’t call it that doesn’t mean that’s not what it was.”

“I don’t like labels,” GOB says, shifting on the couch. Tony smiles and kisses him.

\--

Over the next few weeks, GOB has more sex in more places than he ever has in his life.

“The bedroom, the kitchen, the living room, the shower, the backyard,” he tells Michael, counting off on his fingers and giggling. “The movie theater, the alley behind the movie theater, the beach, the club, the bathroom at the Gothic Castle…”

“That’s enough,” Michael says, the disgust clear on his face. “I get that you’re in a new relationship and buddy, I think that’s great, but I really don’t need to hear all the details.” He grimaces, and GOB pretends not to notice.

“And it’s not just sex, Michael. We have a real connection! It’s having such a positive impact on me. I’m eating healthier, I’m not drinking and partying like I was—”

“You were just a little old to be doing that,” Michael mutters and GOB ignores him.

“I’m working on my illusions—really working on them! Not just practicing the same old routine over and over again. I’m improving and growing as a magician.”

Michael grimaces again. GOB chooses to interpret it as a smile.

“You could have been growing as the president of the Bluth Company, but you messed that up, didn’t you?” Michael says, cocking his head to one side.

“That life isn’t for me,” GOB grumbles. “I put in my time. I got the company back on track. You’re just jealous you couldn’t do it.”

“Well, I’ve been a little busy working on getting our brother out of jail. You might remember him, his name is Buster?”

“How dare you, Michael? Who’s been at the prison visiting baby Buster almost every day? Who’s been keeping his spirits up with illusions and candy?” At this, several Tootsie Rolls fly out of GOB’s hand and scatter across the floor. Both GOB and Michael look at them, and then back at each other.

“Well, I think everything is going to work out, now that your pal Tony Wonder is going to testify against Sally Sitwell.”

“Old Sally Sitwell,” GOB says. “Too bad you never got to stick it to her before she became a criminal mastermind, huh, Michael? Now she’ll be off to the women’s prison. Probably come out a lesbian.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” Michael says. “It doesn’t matter. Well, GOB, it’s been really nice catching up, but I have to go see my girlfriend now, so if you’ll excuse me—”

“Sorry, Michael, I’d love to talk more, but I have to go meet someone, so I’m going to have to ask you to take off.”

“I said it first—”

“Bye, Michael,” GOB says, ushering him to the door. He peers out the window until Michael’s car disappears into the distance, then steps back into the kitchen and loudly says, “I wonder if Tony knows we’re alone now.” Tony emerges from the kitchen cupboard.

“Did somebody say—”

“Yes, wonder. I totally set you up for that,” GOB says.

“Did you have to tell your brother all the places we’ve had sex?”

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t even know it’s you,” GOB says, unable to contain a snort of laughter. “He still thinks I’m with some random chick.”

“That’s part of the problem. Why do you feel more comfortable telling him you’ve had sex in the bathroom at the Gothic Castle than telling him you’re with me?” Tony gestures between them with his hands.

“Because sex doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but if I tell him about you, then he’ll know I’m…” _gay_ , GOB finishes mentally, but he doesn’t want to say it out loud. He’s been practicing saying it lately, though, when he’s alone, saying it to an empty room. _Gay. I’m gay. I’m gay for another man. We have gay sex. We’re in a gay relationship._ Tony is looking at him expectantly, so GOB says, “Sorry, you were saying?”

“ _You_ were saying,” Tony mutters and then stalks toward GOB, shoving him roughly up against the kitchen counter. 

“Kitty likes to scratch,” GOB says with a grin, and Tony rolls his eyes before pressing their mouths together, his tongue lapping at GOB’s. The kiss goes from playful to fierce fast, and soon Tony is heaving GOB up onto the counter, hands running up and down his thighs and brushing over his groin.

“Hey, GOB,” Tony whispers in his ear before sucking on GOB’s earlobe. “I love having sex with you the way we do now, and all the places we have sex, but do you ever think about…” Tony trails off and GOB stiffens, not sure what he’s going to say.

“About?”

“About what it would be like if…if I was inside of you?”

GOB is snapped right back to his last night with JBJ. He can feel JBJ’s legs hooked over his shoulders, the way his mouth sucked at GOB so desperately, the way his ass swallowed GOB whole. How _connected_ they were before, during, and after.

“I don’t know,” GOB says, his hands stilling on Tony’s shoulders.

“That’s okay,” Tony says quickly. “That’s fine. We don’t have to do anything like that.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” GOB says, although he’s not entirely sure about the idea of someone’s dick inside his ass, even if it is Tony. “I just…need some more time.”

“Okay,” Tony whispers in his ear, then places a wet, sucking kiss on his neck. GOB moans; Tony always knows just the spot he likes, the one detail he seems to remember from their first night together. “That’s fine, baby. I love sucking your cock more than anything.”

GOB rakes his nails down Tony’s back and crushes their mouths together. Tony loves cheesy-ass dirty talk, and GOB enjoys listening to him more than he would ever admit. Tony’s arms encircle his neck before sliding down his chest and up his shirt, over the bare skin of his stomach.

“Fuck,” GOB murmurs against his mouth, his entire abdomen shuddering.

At that moment, the front door bangs open. GOB looks around in wild confusion, but it’s too late; Michael is back, staring at them with his eyebrows raised and his mouth wide open.

“ _I knew it—_ ”

“Shit,” GOB mutters and pushes Tony back, hopping down off the counter. “Michael, it’s not what it looks like—”

“I think it’s exactly what it looks like,” Michael says gleefully. “ _I always knew it!_ ”

GOB’s first instinct is to find a forget-me-now, but he hasn’t refilled the prescription since Cinco, not wanting Tony to know how regularly he had used them before.

“All right, Michael. You got me. This is Tony. We’re gay dating.”

“You can just call it dating,” Michael says. He pulls out his cell phone and the unmistakable _click_ of a photo being taken fills the room. “I can’t wait to show this to Mom and Dad.”

“Michael, you can’t tell them,” GOB insists, walking over to him and trying to grab the phone out of his hand unsuccessfully.

“Why not?” Michael asks, holding the phone out of reach as GOB practically climbs him in his attempt to get at it.

“Yeah, why not?” Tony repeats, hands on his hips. Michael raises his eyebrows and grins.

“See, even your little boyfriend wants you to come clean.”

“He’s not my—we haven’t even talked about—god damn it, Michael, I just need some more time before I tell Mom and Dad. No one can know about this.” GOB grabs for the phone again, trying to be stealthy, but Michael rams it in his front pocket. “Also, please don’t patronize my—my boyfriend.”

Tony grins at him from across the room, and GOB flushes.

“Look, I just came back because I left these papers,” Michael says, grabbing a manila folder off the dining room table. “I’m gonna leave. I’ll keep your secret for now, GOB, but you better figure out a way to tell the rest of the family soon.”

GOB purses his lips and glares at him as he walks toward the front door.

“Nice to meet you officially, Tony,” Michael says with a wave and then closes the door behind him. GOB huffs.

“So, did that kill the mood? Because I thought it was actually really hot when you called me your boyfriend,” Tony says, raising his eyebrows as he crosses over to GOB.

“It killed the mood,” GOB mutters, but his chest feels fluttery and light. It’s a bit of a relief that Michael knows, now, even if he’s going to be a jackass about it. GOB collapses in a chair at the dining room table and Tony stands behind him and starts rubbing his shoulders.

“Say it again,” Tony whispers, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to GOB’s ear.

“Boyfriend,” GOB says, trying not to smile.

“Say the whole thing. What you said to Michael.”

“Stop patronizing my boyfriend,” GOB says. It’s a little easier this time, and Tony laughs and plants a half-upside-down kiss on his lips.

\-- 

They are having sex a lot—every empty place they can find; in the morning, afternoon and evening; sober, drunk, and high. GOB begins to realize that sometimes that’s how they fill silences, but still, it doesn’t feel wrong to him, like it’s something they shouldn’t be doing. It just feels good. Really good. Every time. Even his not-so-great orgasms with Tony are better than most of the one-night-stand orgasms he’s had in his life.

“That’s just how new relationships are,” Lindsay tells him over lunch at the club. “God, even Tobias and I were like that once. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Sure, you’re just getting to know each other, but getting to know each other sexually is the funnest part.”

“Funnest isn’t a word,” GOB says idly, mulling it all over. It makes sense.

“This chick is really turning you into a word snob,” Lindsay says with a sneer. “Anyway, there are always going to be silences. You can’t be with someone all the time and always have something to talk about. Just enjoy it, because once you’re an old married couple and the passion is gone, there’s no sex to fill the quiet times.”

GOB narrows his eyes at Lindsay.

“It’s not a chick,” he says finally. Maybe it’s the several martinis he’s consumed since they sat down two hours ago, but he’s feeling really comfortable sharing with Lindsay. Honest, even. “It’s a guy. Tony Wonder. I’m gay dating Tony Wonder.” He makes the “W” quotes with his fingers and immediately feels guilty, since Tony asked him not to. He’s practiced saying that in the mirror so many times, sometimes with finger quotes, sometimes without, and now he’s saying it out loud to another person. He’s shaky and a little giddy once it escapes him.

“You’re gay?” Lindsay stares at him, her head tilting to the side just slightly. “Gay brother. I don’t know…”

“I’m not gay,” GOB says quickly. “I mean, I don’t know. I don’t like labels.”

“Sexuality-confused brother,” Lindsay says. “That’s good. I could use that, potentially.”

“Use it for what?”

“For my campaign. It’d be a way to bring me a little more toward the center. I mean, I’ve got the conservatives, but it’d be nice to bring in a few more moderate votes.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You are not getting near my personal life with your campaign.”

“Oh, come on, GOB. It’s just business,” Lindsay says and takes a long sip of her martini. “Don’t you want me to get elected?”

GOB doesn’t really care if she gets elected and frankly keeps forgetting that she’s even running for something. 

“I’m not ready to tell everyone,” GOB says. “Now, if you wanted me to do something like a magic show to impress voters, I could probably be convinced to do something like that. Maybe.” Lindsay purses her lips.

“So what is that like? Gay sex?” she says. “Doing it up the butt? I mean, I know what it’s like for women. It was Tobias’ favorite. But I read men have prostrates and things that make it really good for them. Is it good?”

“We haven’t actually done that yet.” GOB admits it because he can’t think of a plausible lie in time; he has no fucking idea what butt sex feels like. At least, not on the receiving end, and Tony seems to think of him as the receiver. Apparently, so does Lindsay. She scrunches up her nose.

“I thought you said you were having a lot of sex.”

“We are! Just, not that. You know, we do other stuff.”

“What, like foreplay? That’s not sex,” Lindsay says authoritatively. GOB tries not to feel bad about himself. “You guys are just jerking each other off? Why even bother? You might as well do it to yourself.”

The difference between jerking himself off and Tony jerking him off, holding him close, mouth on his neck and sucking and while he pants and moans is astronomical, but GOB doesn’t say that. “That’s not the only thing, Lindsay.” He sneers at her and bites the olive off the little sword in his martini glass.

“Look, GOB, I’m older than you, so I’m wiser, so please listen to me when I tell you, you’re not actually having sex. You’re having foreplay. It’s not the same thing. It’s like a couple of fourteen-year-olds playing grab-ass in the shower.”

“It is not,” GOB insists quietly, mouth around the rim of his glass.

“Just let him fuck you. What are you afraid of?”

GOB thinks back to JBJ and the way he got to hold him, to press his fingers into so many parts of his body, to build up the connection they had. GOB doesn’t want to think of JBJ when he’s having sex with Tony, and so far, he hasn’t. But he doesn’t want to risk anything that might be simmering below the surface bubbling up just because everyone else thinks he should have anal sex.

“Nothing,” GOB says. He drains his glass and stands up. “You’ve got this, I presume?”

“Our mother’s got it,” Lindsay says with a laugh, holding up her glass. 

“Bye,” GOB says, turning on his heel and rushing out of the club.

\--

Two hours later, GOB is sprawled out on Tony’s couch and Tony’s on top of him. They’ve been making out for a while—a _long_ while—and GOB is hard and panting, but every time he reaches for Tony’s belt buckle Tony pushes his hands away, up over his head or down at his sides, and pins his wrists there. They’re just kissing and kissing and grinding a little but not that much, and touching each other over their clothes, and kissing some more. GOB feels like he’s in high school again, trying to get Eve Holt to go all the way only to have her stop him at her skirt hemline.

GOB is sweating; he can feel his face getting hotter and hotter. He rakes his fingers down Tony’s back and groans as Tony bites his shoulder. Finally— _finally_ —Tony’s hands slip around to his stomach and reach into his pants, and at that exact moment, there is an uncontrollable wet, prickling sensation in his eyes. He stills, trying to will away the tears, but it’s no use. Tony’s already noticed.

“Fuck, GOB, are you okay?” Tony sits back, straddling GOB’s thighs, his eyes wide.

“I’m fine,” GOB says hoarsely. “We can keep going!”

“Not really,” Tony says, his brow furrowing as he tilts his head. “What’s going on with you? I’m sorry if that was too much. I thought we were having fun.”

“I was having fun—I mean, _we_ were having fun! It’s not you,” GOB says. He’s not sure what it is, exactly, but he’s pretty confident it’s not Tony.

Tony climbs over to GOB’s side and lies down next to him, so they’re pressed closely together on the small couch from head to toe. He tangles their legs together and GOB squeezes his eyes shut, tears leaking out down his cheeks. Tony nuzzles his face, which only makes him cry harder.

“Did something happen at lunch with your sister?” Tony whispers. He wipes the wetness from GOB’s face with a gentle swipe of his thumb.

“Not really,” GOB mutters, his voice muffled against Tony’s shoulder. “I mean, nothing _happened_. Maybe she got me thinking about some things.”

“What things?”

“Well, I told her about you,” GOB admits, and he can feel Tony’s grin against his cheek.

“You did?”

“Yeah, and she asked if I was gay now. She wanted to use it in her campaign.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I didn’t want her to use me in her campaign and that I didn’t even know if I was gay. I mean, fuck. This is my life! I’m not some little pawn she can just parade around to get votes!”

“Yeah, no way,” Tony agrees. “That’s shitty.”

“And she told me I should let you fuck me and I guess I’m feeling guilty about that.”

Tony pulls back a little and GOB cracks his eyes open. Tony’s face is extremely serious. “Whoa, whoa. What are you feeling guilty about that for? I told you I was completely happy with the sex we’ve been having.”

“I know! I know. I just…maybe I haven’t told you the whole truth about that, because I don’t want to talk to you about JBJ.” 

GOB says his name before he remembers that he hadn’t told Tony who his messed up thing had been with.

“JBJ as in John Beard, Jr.?” Tony says slowly. “That rich newscaster’s son? The partier? That’s who you were with for so long?”

“We weren’t together,” GOB says and he pushes himself into a sitting position. Tony follows, leaving a little distance between them on the couch.

“Did JBJ fuck you?” Tony asks, his jaw set, like he’s ready to punch someone out. “GOB, did that weasely little motherfucker _hurt_ you?”

“God, Tony, no, no,” GOB says quickly. “It was—I did it…to him. Once. That’s the only time I’ve done that with a guy.” GOB can see the realization settle in on Tony’s face.

“And it was special,” Tony says, so softly GOB can barely hear him. “That’s why you don’t want to do it with me.”

“It _was_ special.” GOB swallows. “And this is why I didn’t want to talk to you about it. You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Tony says. He reaches out his hand and grabs onto GOB’s, letting their twined fingers settle in GOB’s lap. “It _is_ a little hard to hear. But I’m not mad.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to do it with you,” GOB says. “It was just so—so—” He struggles to find the right word.

“Intimate?” Tony says, and GOB nods, cringing because he can’t stop himself from telling Tony the truth. Tony looks crestfallen.

“Fuck. I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” GOB says. “Let’s go back to making out.”

“You’re still crying,” Tony points out.

“Dammit,” GOB says without any real feeling. Tony’s right. If GOB’s learned anything from the numerous prostitutes he’s been with, it’s that crying isn’t really a turn on. “Okay, it’s not just that. I keep saying I don’t care about labels, right? I don’t care about having a word to call myself or identifying with a _community_ or whatever the fuck. But then why can’t I stop thinking about it? I keep thinking if I have…you know…butt sex again it’s going to mean I’m really gay. But then I think, who cares if I’m gay? Isn’t that fine? And then sometimes I think I’m bi, but then…sometimes I think…I mean, I’ve had _plenty_ of sex with women, and I’ve always enjoyed that, and I even got married and I got engaged a different time and I’ve had so many different relationships with women, and long ones and short ones and one-night stands and…I _like_ fucking women, and I’m really good at it…but once I got together with JBJ it was like…we just connected, you know? And I’d never…I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t just stop seeing him, because any time I was with a girl it didn’t matter, like I could turn it on or off whenever I wanted. But I was thinking about it today with Lindsay and it sort of hit me…maybe it’s because it was the first time I’d really gotten involved with a guy, and maybe it’s because he’s a guy that we were able to form that connection, and now that I have what I have with you and I just think…maybe I _am_ gay, you know?”

Tony is listening to GOB intently, nodding with him, looking entirely sympathetic. He sets his hands on GOB’s thighs and squeezes, as though to say, _I know, man. I’ve been there._ And GOB feels so incredibly understood for the first time in his life that he bursts into tears all over again. Tony puts his arms around GOB, and GOB buries his face in Tony’s chest and sobs.

“I’m going to get snot all over you,” GOB says through deep, shaky breaths, his voice muffled, and he can feel Tony shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter, Gobie,” he says, and GOB sobs even harder.

“God, look at us,” GOB says after a few minutes, when he’s finally able to take a deep breath without it getting caught in his throat. “We’re a hot mess.”

Tony very kindly doesn’t point out that it’s only GOB who’s the hot mess, and GOB is grateful. 

“Listen,” Tony says, pulling back a little and looking GOB in the eye. He’s holding onto either side of GOB’s arms tightly. “I know you want answers. I know sometimes it doesn’t matter as much and sometimes it matters a lot. I just think you need to stop worrying about if dating a guy or having butt sex _makes_ you gay, and once you’ve done that, you can decide for yourself what you are or if it matters. It doesn’t have to be now, but Jesus, GOB, you’re going to kill yourself if you keep stressing out about it this much.”

“You’re so smart,” GOB says, his lower lip trembling.

“I’m not that smart. Also, for the record, tons of straight people and even fucking lesbians do stuff up the butt, okay? It’s not only for gay dudes. I’ve been thinking about the same stuff but I got to the point where I just have to keep myself sane. I mean, shit. A month ago I was happily eating Sally Sitwell’s pussy, and now the thought of doing that makes me feel nauseated. Is it because I don’t like girls anymore? Or is it just because you’re the only person I want to sleep with right now? I’m not sure yet, but until I figure it out, I’m just gonna be me. Meaning gay to the general public, and also pretty gay in my personal life.” Tony smiles.

GOB gazes at him, overwhelmed with adoration. 

“Can I be pretty gay in your personal life with you?” GOB says, flinging his arms around Tony’s neck. Tony squeezes him back.

“I’m counting on it,” he says.

\--

The next day, GOB is in an incredible mood. Tony had held him for the longest time last night, and they’d just sat quietly, in each other’s personal space, breathing in each other’s air. Then they’d started making out again after a while, and _then_ they decided to try sixty-nining, which they did right on the couch, and it was awesome. Afterward, Tony had taken his hand and led him to bed, and GOB had slept curled up against Tony’s side. It had been the best sleep he’d gotten in weeks, and one of the best nights of GOB’s life.

His phone buzzes in his pocket as he’s driving home and he swerves slightly as he tries to dig it out. Another car honks but he’s straightened out, he’s fine, and then he sees it’s a text from Tony. Already! GOB feels a grin spread across his face. He’s never wanted to hear from someone all the time before, but he never gets sick of Tony’s face popping up on his screen. He swipes at the screen impatiently as he pulls up to a red light.

_When can I see you again?_

While GOB is reading it, the phone buzzes again.

_Shit. That sounds kind of pathetic, doesn’t it? Never mind._

The light turns to green and the phone buzzes once more.

_Actually, I don’t care. When can I see you again?_

GOB steps on the gas, waiting a moment more, but it stays quiet this time.

“Siri,” he says, “send a message to Tony.”

“What would you like to say to Tony Wonder?” Siri replies.

“Tonight?” GOB says, trying to make the end of the word really high pitched so Siri knows he’s asking a question. When he glances at it, though, there’s no question mark, which makes it sound just a little too bossy and flippant.

“Edit message,” GOB says, and Siri beeps at him. “Tonight question mark?”

This time it works, so GOB has Siri send the message off, smiling to himself at how safely he’s using his phone while driving. It buzzes again almost immediately, and GOB nearly drops it trying to unlock the screen, slamming on his brakes to avoid a pedestrian with a poodle in the crosswalk. She flips him off and GOB waves to her out the window, accidentally releasing his last live dove.

“Dammit,” GOB mutters, and then glances down at the screen.

The new message isn’t from Tony. GOB had almost erased JBJ’s name from his phone, but after spending several minutes with his finger hovering over the “delete” key, he decided to save it, just in case anything like this ever happened. When he sees the name spelled out across the screen, the guilt crushes into GOB so hard he feels like he’s been rear-ended, and he quickly pulls off to the side of the road, his hands shaking uncontrollably. He grips one with the other, trying to make the phone still.

_I know we’re not supposed to be talking, but can I see you?_

Sweat beads down GOB’s neck. As he attempts to make sense of anything that’s happening, another text comes in from Tony.

_Perfect. I’ll come to you. Bringing Chinese._

GOB inhales deeply, turning the air conditioning up to full blast. He and JBJ had decided never to speak again. It had been _JBJ’s_ idea. Why the hell does he want to see GOB now? _Now_ , when things are going great with Tony, and GOB is finally having breakthroughs about his sexuality and accepting himself? He can’t deal with it. GOB throws his phone onto the passenger seat and grips the steering wheel tight, but he doesn’t put the limo back into drive; he just sits there, his mind whirring.

More than anything, GOB is terrified of the pull he feels toward JBJ—of how much he _wants_ to reply to his message and say _yes, yes, yes_. He’s missed JBJ, and he’s missed how much JBJ made him feel needed. It’s not that Tony doesn’t make him feel good, or happy, or loved—but it’s not the same. Tony might care about GOB, but he’s independent and happy on his own. JBJ always looked at him like GOB held his entire soul between his fingers, and GOB has never felt so important as when JBJ’s every emotion depended on him.

_And you were miserable_ , GOB reminds himself, banging his fist on the steering wheel. _You were taking so many pills and drinking every day because you wanted to forget your life._

GOB takes another deep breath and readjusts in the seat. He puts the limo in drive and merges back into traffic, heading home. He’ll decide what to do when he gets there.

\--

By the time Tony arrives as it’s getting dark, GOB hasn’t decided anything, but he is pleasantly buzzed from downing several Mike’s hard lemonades. Tony’s got bags full of cream cheese wontons, fried rice, sesame chicken and beef lo mein, and the smell envelopes GOB as Tony’s arms draw him into a close hug.

“Good idea,” GOB says into Tony’s ear. “The Chinese, I mean.”

“Are you drunk?” Tony says with a smile as he pulls back.

“Kind of,” GOB admits. “Sorry, I had a long day.”

“Wanna talk about it while I catch up?” Tony heads into the kitchen and GOB follows him like a hungry puppy.

“Not really,” he says, slipping his arms around Tony’s waist from behind as Tony sets the bags down on the counter. He feels good in GOB’s arms. GOB presses his face into Tony’s neck.

“Hey,” Tony says quietly, turning around to face him and forcing GOB to look him in the eye. “Is this about last night?”

“No,” GOB says. “Last night was one of the best nights of my life.”

“Same,” Tony says, smiling, and he stands on his tip-toes to press a soft kiss to GOB’s lips.

“Same,” GOB repeats, and then sighs. “Want a drink?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

GOB crosses to the fridge to pull out two more Mike’s while Tony takes white cartons out of the paper bags. They sit at the table like real adults, eating Chinese from the carton with chopsticks. Tony rests his feet in GOB’s lap under the table and GOB likes the weight of them there on his thighs, holding him secure.

“Can I ask you something?” GOB says awhile later, when they’re finished and Tony’s on his third drink. His feet are still in GOB’s lap and GOB is rubbing one almost absent-mindedly.

“Sure,” Tony says, cocking his head to the side a little.

“Would you be mad if I got into contact with an ex something that I haven’t been in contact with for a while?” The words spill out of GOB so fast he’s not sure Tony will understand him.

“JBJ?”

“Yeah,” GOB says, wincing. “Not like…in a way where you would have to be worried about anything. I don’t know, maybe you wouldn’t even care if we talked or got together or like. Hooked up. I mean, we haven’t said we’re ex—ex—excl—cl—exclu—ex—ex—ex—”

“Exclusive?” Tony finishes for him, his brow furrowed.

“That,” GOB says. “I mean, we never said we were that. Right?”

“Well, I don’t know, I guess not…technically,” Tony says, and he pulls his feet out of GOB’s lap. GOB suddenly feels very cold. “Are you seeing anyone else?”

“What? Me? God, no. I’m not interested in seeing anyone else.”

“Same,” Tony says, leaning forward with his elbows resting on the table. His eyes are boring into GOB’s and it’s making him feel like Tony can read his thoughts, like he knows that JBJ already texted him and that GOB is probably going to text him back. “So neither of us are seeing anyone else or want to. That sounds like exclusive to me.”

“Same,” GOB echoes, because it does, even though he’s never associated himself with that word before.

“So since we _are_ exclusive,” Tony says with a small smile, “I guess I would say that—that it would make me uncomfortable if you started talking to JBJ again. Not because I don’t trust you, but I guess I don’t know why you would want to, after all the shit he put you through.”

“I put him through more shit,” GOB mutters, an acidic taste rising in his throat. “I treated him like shit.”

“He wasn’t fair to you either,” Tony says. “But anyway, I guess…I just don’t know why you would want to talk to him.”

“Yeah,” GOB says, and thinks, _because he wants to talk to me._

“Have you been thinking about trying to get in touch with him lately?” Tony asks.

“No,” GOB says truthfully.

“So why are you asking me this?”

“No reason,” GOB says, standing up suddenly and grabbing the Chinese leftovers to put in the fridge. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, eyeing him until GOB gives him a pleading look and a kiss. GOB is grateful he doesn’t ask any more questions after that. Tony insists they watch his DVD copy of The Magic Show for the tenth time, but they end up making out before they’re even halfway through it. Tony climbs into GOB’s lap and kisses him lazily, hands cupping his face. They get each other off at the same time and GOB’s ears soak in all the sweet little noises Tony makes—breathy moans and hums and when he comes he whispers, simply, “GOB.”

Their foreheads fall together, arms all tangled up in each other, and GOB wonders why he’s even letting himself think about JBJ when this thing with Tony makes him feel so incredibly good. Maybe this is how things are supposed to be, with no interference, no crushing guilt, no fear. He’s not even stressed that they’ve now apparently decided they’re exclusive, since GOB can’t imagine having sex with anyone else anyway. He doesn’t need to respond to JBJ, he decides, and he drags Tony up to take him to bed.

\--

GOB awakens with a start. It’s still dark outside and he fumbles for his phone to check the time—4:11am. 

GOB glances over at Tony, but he’s sound asleep. He goes into his messages, rereading the one from JBJ. _But can I see you?_ His heart thuds.

_Why?_ GOB writes back, and he hits send before he can change his mind. Regret immediately seeps through his body, rising in his throat. His phone lights up again within seconds.

_Miss you_ , it says. GOB rolls onto his front, supporting himself on his elbows.

_Why are you awake?_

_Just got home. Drunk. Come over?_ GOB’s eyes dart nervously to Tony and his stomach curdles.

_Can’t._

After a minute, JBJ still hasn’t responded. GOB presses the heels of his palms into his eyes until the darkness explodes into white. When he drops his hands, there’s another message waiting.

_I’m too drunk. I think about you every day. I need to see you._

GOB is disgusted with himself for even getting into it with JBJ again; why is he doing this? He drops the phone on the floor next to the bed before he can fuck everything up even further and presses his face into the pillow, trying not to cry. Tony shifts beside him, and he must notice GOB lying in a position not fit for sleeping because he slides closer, until his body is half-draped on top of GOB’s, and kisses his shoulder.

“Awake?” Tony murmurs, and GOB can tell without looking his eyes are closed.

“Nah,” GOB says, turning his head to look at him. “Go back to sleep.”

“You too?” Tony mumbles against him.

“Yeah.” GOB kisses Tony’s forehead, just because he can, and then turns on his side away from him. Tony immediately clings around his body, hand wandering over his chest and leg tangling in between GOB’s. GOB exhales and revels in the feel of Tony holding him, the lack of space between them, the continuous contact of their skin. He forces himself to relax.

“Gobie?” Tony says.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” Tony squeezes GOB extra tight and GOB’s eyes well with tears.

“I love you, too.”

\--

Tony leaves early the next morning, kissing GOB goodbye while he’s still half-asleep in bed. He has to go check out a venue for a show in L.A., he explains in a whisper, and he’ll probably spend the night there, but he’ll call GOB later, okay? GOB nods sleepily and has a hard time letting his arms drop from around Tony’s neck, but eventually he falls back onto the mattress, exhausted, and hears Tony slip out of the room. He lies there for a moment before reaching onto the nightstand and groping around for his phone, which he doesn’t feel. One eye cracks open and he peers around, finally finding it on the floor next to the bed. He presses a button and it lights up.

It’s seven in the morning, and he has a new text message from JBJ.

Fuck.

Everything from the middle of the night comes rushing back to him and nausea twists up his stomach. He puts the phone down next to him without reading the message, squeezing his eyes shut, and five seconds later picks it up again and opens it.

It says, simply, _sorry_. The timestamp on it is 5:31am.

GOB puts it down next to him again and rubs his forehead. How the fuck is he supposed to respond to that? _You shouldn’t respond at all,_ he tells himself sternly.

So much for going back to sleep. GOB throws the covers up and heads straight for the shower; maybe he can wash this all off, his guilt and his disgust with himself, and more than anything, his desire to respond to JBJ.

It works, sort of. GOB feels better after he gets out of the shower. He spends too long picking out what to wear, and then drinks a slow cup of coffee on the patio, reading the new edition of Poof that Tony had left for him. He had hoped there’d be some buzz about the new illusions he’s been working on, but the magazine doesn’t even mention him. Tony is mentioned thirty-seven times, _and_ he’s spending his weekend checking out a huge new venue for a show, while GOB sits around on his ass reading about him.

He gets up, sliding the glass door open dramatically before crossing to the table, where he purposefully left his phone when he went outside so he wouldn’t be tempted by it. There are no new messages. He bites the inside of his lip and tries not to feel disappointed. Tony is busy, and JBJ is probably still sleeping, and he doesn’t want any more messages from JBJ anyway, right? That’s why he’s not responding either…right?

GOB looks back at the text history. Why is JBJ apologizing when GOB is the asshole who couldn’t let go in the first place? Before he can stop himself, his fingers are flying over the letters.

_Can you meet after the weather?_

JBJ’s last forecast on Saturdays is the 10pm news. GOB gets a response almost immediately.

_Yes. I’ll come to your place._

GOB had been thinking they should meet somewhere in public, but maybe it’ll be best if there’s no witnesses that they were together, since it’s probably not a good idea to tell Tony. He’ll see JBJ tonight, not have sex with him, get the curiosity and guilt out of his system, and then he’ll be able to move on. It’s a solid plan, GOB thinks, and he convinces himself that feels a little relieved. 

\--

GOB makes Michael go out to dinner with him that night, because he’s been sitting around all day staring at Tony’s face in Poof and tapping his fingers. He needs something to kill the time.

“So how have you been?” GOB says after they’ve ordered. “Bad example. Say you’re in a new relationship, and everything has been great. But then your ex something from your complicated past wants to get together again, so you agree to meet them. Then you’re undecided about whether you should tell your current relationship about them. Is that kind of where you’re at lately?”

“No,” Michael says, raising his eyebrows.

“I said bad example,” GOB says and rolls his eyes. “But let’s pretend that’s how things have been going for you. What would you do?”

“I would say honesty is always the best policy, and trust is the foundation of a relationship, and if I didn’t tell my partner what was happening with my ex I would be lying to them and betraying their trust.”

“Wow,” GOB says. “So you’re kind of leaning toward telling them, a little bit.”

“Yes,” Michael says. “Are you getting together with your ex?”

“I don’t think so,” GOB says quickly. “I told you, it was a bad example. But enough about you. Let’s talk about me! Things with Tony have been great. Perfect, almost. We talk about everything. And the sex is still amazing. I mean, how long does it take for that to fizzle out? Because at this point I just can’t imagine us ever not doing it a couple times a day at least.”

Michael’s lip curls in disgust.

“Well, Rebel and I have been doing great, too. Of course, my son is no longer speaking to me. But it’s not exactly my fault she chose the BMW over the Corolla, is it?”

GOB narrows his eyes.

“And sex with her,” Michael continues, leaning forward and raising his eyebrows with a grin. “Sex with a 20-year-old is like a whole new, different thing, I gotta tell you, GOB. When’s the last time you tapped someone that young? I’m surprised Tony can even go twice in one day, at his age.”

GOB stares at Michael, completely disgusted. “I never knew you were so ageist, Michael,” he says calmly as the food arrives. “Or a pedophile. You should go hang out with our sex offender brother-in-law.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Come on. You know you’re jealous.”

“I’m choosing not to respond to that,” GOB says, but finds himself unable to resist the temptation. “And for your information, the last person I dated was in their early 20s, and that’s who I’m getting together with tonight.” He slices into his steak with a satisfied smile.

“Whoa, whoa,” Michael says, pointing his knife at GOB. “You’re getting together with your 20-year-old ex-girlfriend tonight without telling Tony?”

“It’s not a girl, and we were never in a relationship,” GOB says, chewing.

“You were with a guy before this?” Michael hisses at him across the table. “GOB, how could you have never told me about this?”

“We haven’t exactly been the closest of brothers, Michael. Or maybe you hadn’t noticed.” GOB doesn’t even try to hide his hurt. “You ignored me for years. I reached out to you. You ignored me. Finally, I stopped trying. It’s like the dog who gets kicked one too many times. At some point, they just learn to roll over and take it.”

Michael pauses, hands stilled over his plate. GOB can feel Michael looking at him, but he focuses on cutting his steak.

“I’m sorry, GOB,” Michael says after a long moment of silence. “You’ve been going through a lot, and I haven’t been a good brother.”

GOB’s eyes fill with tears, and he bites the inside of his cheek to try to stop them from spilling over. He shovels a large spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“You’ve been dealing with…with the company, and trying to figure out your sexuality, and I’ve just been wrapped up in my own thing, and everything with Buster. I’m really sorry.”

Michael reaches across the table to touch GOB’s hand, and GOB can’t hold it in any more. He breaks down sobbing.

“Oh, Michael,” GOB says, grabbing at his hand and clutching it fiercely. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

“Well, you deserve the apology, buddy. I really am sorry.”

GOB lets out a choked cough and shoves his chair back as he stands up. In two steps he’s there with his hands closing around Michael’s upper arms, pulling him up out of the chair and into a close hug.

“Thank you,” GOB says in a strangled whisper. “You really are the best brother a guy could ask for.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, and there are a lot of people staring, GOB, so maybe we should—”

“The best,” GOB whispers fiercely and gives Michael one last squeeze before releasing him. Michael immediately falls back down into his chair and GOB sits as well. He wipes his face with his napkin, laughing.

“Look at us,” he says. “Brothers again.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Michael says with a smile.

\--

GOB doesn’t realize how late it is by the time he’s leaving dinner with Michael. They had ended up having a great time, talking and laughing and reminiscing about the old days. GOB leaves smiling, until he checks the time and realizes JBJ is probably already on the way to his house, and that he has two missed calls from Tony. After pulling out of the parking lot, he fumbles to call him back; Tony picks up after the first ring.

“Gobie!”

“Hey!” GOB cries. He slams on the brakes as he approaches a red light that he didn’t notice and realizes he might be a little too buzzed to be driving and talking on the phone at the same time.

“How are you?”

“Good. Busy! At dinner with my brother,” GOB says, even though he just left. A burning sensation rises in his esophagus as he realizes that’s the first time he’s lied to Tony since their first night together. “How’s L.A.? How was the venue?”

“Awesome. I can’t wait to get you up here. I’m staying in a great hotel. A lady is fixing up my pedicure as we speak.”

GOB imagines a beautiful woman kneeling at Tony’s feet as he lounges in a bathrobe. He frowns.

“Good,” he says.

“The venue is huge. You could do a show up here with me. The illusion you’ve been working on. It’d be awesome.”

GOB’s heart constricts. “Do you mean it? I’d love that.”

“Definitely. We’ll talk more about it when I get home. Are you keeping busy?”

“Yeah, I am,” GOB says, and he makes a right turn into the Sudden Valley development. “Listen, Tony, I’ve gotta get back.”

“Oh yeah, your brother! Well, tell him I say hi. And I’ll let you know when I’m heading home tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah,” GOB says. “Perfect.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“I love you,” Tony says, and GOB is ready to crawl out of his skin with guilt.

“I love you too,” he says back, and the worst part is how much he means it.

“Good night, Gobie.”

“Night, Tony.”

GOB pulls into the driveway and puts the car in park. He drops his forehead onto the steering wheel. Tony loves him. What the fuck is he doing?

JBJ’s Escalade pulls in behind him, and GOB takes a deep breath.

\--

Seeing JBJ is like jumping into an ice bath. GOB moves stiffly and he’s shaking a little, still recovering from the shock of what he’s doing. JBJ seems calm, and he looks good in a nice striped shirt and slacks, coming from the news station. He’s not wearing his hat but his hair looks under control.

“Yeah, they’ve got this cool stylist working on me now,” JBJ says, self-consciously ruffling his curls. “It’s all right, I guess. It’s a step up.”

GOB pours them both a whiskey and they sit at the kitchen bar stools, talking, although at any given moment GOB has no idea what they’re talking about. He manages to keep up, though, downing his drink and immediately pouring another. JBJ is watching him; he can feel it—taking in everything about him and sipping his drink slowly.

“So, why did you want to get together?” GOB blurts out suddenly. JBJ might have been in the middle of saying something, but GOB doesn’t care. He needs to know.

He can feel the weight of JBJ’s eyes on him, but he stares down into his glass. Then, JBJ’s fingers nudge under his chin, tilting his face up, forcing him to look. 

“You know why,” JBJ whispers, their eyes locked on one another. He places his other hand on GOB’s knee and leans forward slowly. GOB briefly wonders if he’s hallucinating—how did he get into this situation?—but he manages to grip JBJ’s shoulders to hold him back just before JBJ kisses him.

“I’m…with someone,” GOB says miserably, not because he’s miserable to be with Tony, but because saying it to JBJ feels like stabbing him in the back.

“Like, in a relationship?” JBJ says, and his mouth thins into a line.

“Yeah. We’re—exclusive.” GOB is relieved he says it without stuttering.

“You hate relationships,” JBJ says. “I can’t count how many times you said you fucking hate relationships and they’re bullshit.”

“I know.” 

“You never wanted to be in a relationship with me.”

“You never asked,” GOB says, even though he would have said no, anyway. JBJ knows it, too.

“You never wanted that.”

“It just worked out this way,” GOB says, his voice trembling. “I’m happy now.”

“Is it with a girl or a guy?” 

JBJ’s the one looking away, now, and it’s GOB’s turn to watch him. JBJ’s face shatters when GOB says, quietly, “Guy.”

JBJ doesn’t respond for a long time, and GOB tilts back the rest of his drink. 

“So you _are_ gay.”

A thousand replies flood into GOB’s mind all at once, most of them variations on hating labels and why does it matter anyway and sexuality is fluid and it’s a scale, you know, not an either/or thing, everything he’s been thinking about and researching and contemplating for the last however many years since this whole thing with JBJ started, but all that comes out of his mouth is a whispered, “Yeah.” And once he says it, the dead weight that’s been dragging him down from the inside evaporates, and warmth spreads through his body.

JBJ shakes his head. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. Since the second I first saw you.”

“I didn’t know,” GOB says truthfully. JBJ puts his head in his hands and doesn’t respond. “JBJ,” he continues, and waits for him to look up before saying more. “I know I treated you like shit. I knew how much you cared about me but I was too fucked up to do the right thing. I’d never…felt like that about anyone before. So I was treating it like any other hookup I’ve had in my life, but when it got to the point where I knew I was hurting you, I tried to stop it but I couldn’t. Because I cared too, and I didn’t know what to do with it. And…I’m sorry I hurt you, because I really did love you.”

JBJ’s jaw clenches and he looks off to the side. “But now you love this other guy.”

GOB doesn’t say anything, because it’s not a question. 

“That’s cool,” JBJ says, and he sounds so distant that GOB wants to take it all back, laugh it off, say, _just kidding!_ and pull JBJ into his arms and kiss him, but he doesn’t, because for once, he can tell the difference between right and wrong, and no matter how shitty this feels right now, he knows it’s the right thing to do.

JBJ stands up, so GOB does too.

“I gotta go. I’m meeting the guys.” JBJ is already walking toward the door as he says it.

“Yeah, okay,” GOB says, following him. JBJ only stops once his hand is on the door knob, and he turns back to look at GOB.

“See you,” he says, and GOB tries to think of something to say, something significant, because everything feels so significant right now. But it’s all been said already.

“See you,” he echoes, and then JBJ is turning back and wrapping his arms around GOB, holding him in a close hug. GOB hugs him back, and it’s much better than trying to find the right words.

JBJ is out the door, then, and GOB shuts it behind him, watching through the window as he climbs back into his Escalade. GOB waits, but JBJ doesn’t pull out of the driveway right away. GOB quickly backs up, returning to the kitchen to give them both some privacy. 

He knows that a month ago, he would have been a sobbing mess right now, but his eyes are completely dry. It hurts—he can feel it in his chest, aching, but he also feels lighter than he has in years, and that’s how he knows it wasn’t all just another huge mistake.

He gets ready for bed slowly, brushing his teeth and splashing water on his face. When he gets under the covers, he sees he has a text message from Tony that says, simply, _sweet dreams, baby._ He smiles, writes back, _you too_ , and closes his eyes.

\--

GOB is naked and making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for breakfast the next day, his hair still wet from the shower, when he hears the front door bang open. Tony soon appears, and his jaw literally drops open when he finds GOB half-crouching behind the counter, trying to hide his nakedness from whoever might be bursting in.

“Tony!” he says, popping up and smiling when he realizes who it is. “You’re back!” GOB is slammed with nervousness when he realizes that he now he has to tell Tony about what had happened the night before.

“This is a good welcome home,” Tony says, finally managing to close his mouth, but his eyes remain wide. He drops his bags and strides over to GOB, slipping his arms around GOB’s waist and bringing their mouths together.

“Sorry I have morning breath,” GOB says with a laugh.

“Like I care.” Tony’s hands wander down to his ass and squeeze. GOB squirms.

“I was just making breakfast. Do you want some?” GOB turns back around to the counter but Tony doesn’t drop his arms, hugging GOB from behind and resting his head on GOB’s back.

“PBJ for breakfast? No, thanks.” Tony’s hands trace GOB’s abs and then take hold of his hips where the bone juts out. GOB smears more jelly on the bread, letting out a little gasp as Tony’s teeth sink into his shoulder. Tony grinds against GOB’s ass a little and GOB drops the knife so he can grab onto the counter. “God, I love your ass,” Tony murmurs from behind GOB’s ear, and GOB rubs back against him, his eyes fluttering shut. Tony moves his hands down the front of GOB’s thighs and GOB shudders, letting out a long sigh. Maybe he can wait to tell Tony about JBJ.

His sandwich is pretty much ready, but he’s suddenly lost interest in eating it. Tony’s hand cups GOB’s balls and GOB feels himself quickly hardening. His fingers press into the counter and he bows his head, his hips pushing back into Tony’s groin. He can feel Tony’s erection through his pants, and it’s all he can do to stop himself from ripping Tony’s clothes off, getting on his knees, and sucking him off right there. Tony seems to be enjoying this, though, so GOB lets him fondle his cock and trace patterns into his inner thighs. GOB likes the way he can’t see Tony but can feel him from behind, grinding roughly against him while treating him so delicately with his hands.

Finally, GOB decides to take charge and he bends over dramatically, bracing his arms against the counter and presenting his ass, forcing Tony to take a step back. He can hear Tony’s sharp intake of breath, and he stays still as Tony’s fingers trace the skin of his back, over his spine and gently, so gently, down his cleft. GOB forces himself to stay still when Tony brushes over his hole with his fingers, and shivers erupt over his skin. He hears the sound of Tony’s belt unbuckling and gets a sudden wave of panic.

“Just—just—just—” he stammers, forcing himself to take a breath and not turn around, “just outside, okay?”

“Okay,” Tony says, and GOB hears fabric shifting around and a belt buckle thudding to the ground. Then Tony is close up against him again and GOB can feel his cock nestling between his ass cheeks as Tony’s arm encircles his waist. Tony presses a sucking kiss to his back in the vicinity of his shoulder blade and GOB drags his nails on the counter.

Tony holds him like that for a moment, sweetly kissing the expanse of skin, hand splayed over GOB’s abdomen. Then Tony thrusts, just slightly, and groans at the friction, and GOB’s cock is rock hard at the feel of him, the _sound_ of him, his hand on GOB’s stomach, lightly stroking the skin. GOB likes the way it feels to have Tony there, and he thinks maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Tony were to fuck him. Maybe it would actually be amazing—the way it was with JBJ.

Tony thrusts again and then kisses his way down GOB’s back, following with his fingers, touching GOB so lightly it almost tickles. Tony places a wet kiss to his ass cheek and GOB looks down between his legs, realizing that Tony has gotten onto his knees on the floor. Tony’s fingers spread him open and arousal flares through him. He tries to stay still and ignore the instinct to turn away, to cover himself up.

“Can I kiss you here?” Tony says, and GOB’s eyes almost bulge out of his head.

“I—I—I—” GOB has not even considered the possibility that Tony would want to do that to him. 

“I think you’ll like it,” Tony says quickly, flicking his tongue out. “But only if you want to. Or we can try it and I’ll stop whenever you want if you don’t like it.”

GOB has never been one to say no to trying new things, so he whispers, “Okay.” He tries to sound confident, but his voice comes out shaky and vulnerable. Tony’s hands slide around to the front of his thighs and hold him like that for a moment, like he’s hugging him. GOB says, again, “Okay.” It sounds a little steadier this time.

Tony’s hands move back to his ass, then, spreading him open again, and GOB tries to stop himself from shaking as he feels Tony’s tongue lick down his cleft. GOB feels incredibly exposed, raw, as Tony kisses him from top to bottom, and then comes back and starts circling his tongue over GOB’s hole. GOB closes his eyes and tries to let himself relax, focusing on the sensations coursing through him.

At first it doesn’t feel like much of anything at all, but after a minute GOB is realizing Tony was right—he _does_ like it. The more he relaxes the better it feels; Tony starts off with light little licks, stroking back and forth and in a circle, but he soon gets more aggressive, and GOB can feel his tongue, firm and slippery, probing him as Tony’s hands squeeze his ass. When Tony pulls away for a second, GOB can’t help the pathetic moan that escapes his mouth and Tony laughs quietly.

“Don’t worry,” he says and then rubs a finger over GOB’s hole, which is slick and sensitive from all the attention Tony had been lavishing on it. Then, GOB feels Tony’s tongue on his balls, and he spreads his legs further as Tony reaches around his hip and grasps his cock, stroking firmly down and _holding_ there as he takes GOB’s balls in his mouth, lolling them around on his tongue. GOB gasps and Tony licks his way back up GOB’s cleft, giving his cock a few slow, smooth pulls while his tongue darts out. GOB’s hole clenches and unclenches almost uncontrollably and he feels like he wants to draw Tony’s tongue inside of him. It’s amazingly, unbelievably dirty, and Tony’s hand on his cock seems to connect somehow with his tongue on GOB’s ass, creating a sweet, slow burn of pleasure building up inside of him. GOB groans and arches his back as Tony’s tongue flattens, lathering him with spit, and then swirls around him. He keeps his grip on GOB’s cock firm and steady and GOB clutches desperately at the counter’s edge. His balls are tightening and Tony can feel it, he knows, because his hand speeds up, jerking GOB faster as his tongue slips around GOB’s hole, pressing in just a little and then drawing back out, in and out, in and out. He’s fucking GOB with his tongue, and GOB comes with this realization, his jaw clenched and a stuttered groan escaping his mouth, his thighs tensed to the point where he feels like he’s trapping Tony inside him. 

Tony kisses GOB’s ass, nuzzling him with his nose before lightly trailing his hands down the backs of GOB’s thighs. He follows with his mouth, sweet kisses and little licks to the soft skin on backs of his knees. GOB’s legs are shaking and he doesn’t even bother trying to stand upright; he leans his elbows on the counter, pressing his forehead to his wrist. Tony stands behind GOB and leans over him, hugging him from behind, kissing his shoulder blade. GOB exhales steadily, trying to calm his breathing.

He feels Tony’s hard cock press up against him, then, and he tries to say, _do you want me to take care of that?_ in a sexy way, but all he gets out is “Do you—” before Tony is shushing him and thrusting up against his spit-slick ass. GOB moans at the feel of Tony’s erection so close to his sensitive hole, and he feels so loose and relaxed he almost wants to just swallow him up. He doesn’t say that, though, and he feels Tony take his dick in hand, still close up against his backside. He starts quickly jerking himself with his arm around GOB’s waist, clinging to his abdomen. 

“I’m close,” Tony whispers, his breath coming in pants. “It made me so hard to watch you squirming around with my tongue on your ass, you have no fucking idea. Feeling how hard you were for me. You’re such a fucking slut.”

GOB presses his ass back against Tony at this, wiggling his hips weakly, nearly devoid of energy, but Tony seems to like it because he groans, fist flying over his cock and before long he digs his nails into GOB’s skin and gasps. GOB feels wet come spurting onto his ass and lower back, and Tony moans as he collapses onto him, much too heavy, so GOB lets them both fall to the kitchen floor. His thighs are still quivering and he supports himself by leaning back against the cabinets, while Tony lays out on the floor with his head on GOB’s thigh. GOB knows there’s come everywhere but he can’t quite bring himself to care.

“Fuck,” Tony says, and GOB threads his fingers through Tony’s hair, rubbing his temples and the back of his neck.

“Fuck,” GOB agrees, and he closes his eyes and leans his head back.

They stay like that for a while, quiet, GOB playing with Tony’s hair and Tony’s fingers lazily tracing the skin of GOB’s thigh. GOB feels like he could almost fall asleep, but he’s starting to get cold and he knows his ass is going to stick to the tile floor if he doesn’t move soon, so he nudges Tony and whispers, “Hey. Wanna take a shower?”

“Mmm, yeah,” Tony says sleepily and kisses GOB’s leg before sitting up. GOB stands and pulls Tony up by the hand, and then Tony just falls into him, pressing him against the counter and bringing their mouths together in a slow, languid kiss. GOB is tongue-deep in Tony’s mouth before he remembers that Tony was just eating out his _ass_ , but at that point the damage has already been done, so he just wraps his arms around Tony’s waist and holds him close, kissing him and kissing him until he can’t breathe.

When Tony finally pulls back and looks at him, a slight smile on his face, GOB’s heart feels heavy and full. Here is this person, this small, perfect person that fits right into GOB’s arms, that wants to talk to him and joke with him and do magic with him, that wants to hold him and be held by him, kiss him and be kissed by him, touch him and be touched by him, _all the time_. It’s overwhelming.

GOB opens his mouth, intending to say something to make Tony understand just how much it all _means_ to him, but what comes out is, “I saw JBJ last night.”

Tony’s eyes go from soft and slightly unfocused to sharp and narrowed in an instant. He stiffens in GOB’s arms and GOB tries to take it back, _begs_ the words to fly back into his mouth, but it doesn’t work, because Tony is still staring at him like he’s the worst kind of criminal. 

“Like…when you were out with your brother?” Tony drops his arms to his sides, so GOB does, too, and they stand there, looking at each other. GOB suddenly feels very naked.

“Not exactly.” GOB swallows. “He texted me, wanting to get together. And he came over last night after dinner.”

“Came over here? Alone with you?”

“Yeah,” GOB says, and cringes. Tony’s jaw is clenched and he won’t meet GOB’s eyes. GOB thinks back to Tony’s reaction whenever he mentioned other guys and wonders if he shouldn’t have found a more delicate way to approach this subject—or just told him about it when it came up in the first place. Been honest, like a good boyfriend. Like Michael had told him. Why was stupid Michael always _right_?

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What do you mean? I am telling you.”

“I talked to you last night. You didn’t say anything about it.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t know…” GOB says weakly, and Tony rolls his eyes.

“What happened? Did you fuck him?” Tony looks disgusted. GOB doesn’t blame him; he’s disgusted with himself.

“No—I—no! Of course not. We didn’t even—nothing. Nothing happened. I told him I was with you. And happy. And with you.”

“So why did you even see him? You couldn’t have done that over the phone? And why did you _lie_ about it?” Tony crosses his arms. He’s looking everywhere except at GOB. GOB wants to laugh at how stupidly stereotypical this fight sounds—like any jealous couple on TV that he’s heard a million times—and he would, except now it’s happening to him and he’s fucking terrified.

“I always had this—stupid thing about him—I don’t know, Tony. I swear to God we didn’t do anything. I didn’t even want to reply to his text, but then it was the middle of the night and I just—did. I fucked up. He’s out of my life now.”

“That’s what you said before. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s not just this. You don’t want to tell most of your family about me, you’re getting together with your ex-boyfriend and lying about it—it doesn’t feel right.”

“Tony, I just—fuck. Fuck. Please forgive me. I’ll do anything. I just—please. I’m never going to see him again. I’ll never lie to you again. I’ll call my parents and tell them about you right now.” GOB’s speech gets faster and more incomprehensible as he feels increasingly more desperate. “I swear to God. I’ll do anything.”

Tony grabs his boxers and pants off the kitchen floor and pulls them on without saying anything.

“ _Tony._ ” GOB feels as though he is teetering on the edge of a cliff, and he grabs hold of Tony’s shirt front, trying not to fall.

Tony shrugs away from him. GOB is staring down from the precipice, and all he sees is darkness.

“I told him I was gay,” GOB says hoarsely. “You helped me—helped me see things…”

“Glad I could make a difference,” Tony says. “I’m gonna go. I need to think. And sleep. I got up at ass o’clock this morning so I could get back to see you.”

“You can sleep here,” GOB says in one last desperate attempt. “I’ll leave you alone. Just don’t go.”

“I’m gonna go.” Tony’s eyes finally flick up to him. They’re shining with tears.

“Will you call me?” GOB whispers, resisting the urge to grab him again, to hold him there and _make_ him stay.

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Yeah. I’ll see you later, GOB.” Tony looks away and takes a step toward the door.

“Okay,” GOB says, clearing his throat. “See you later.”

Tony takes a few more steps. GOB’s jaw juts out and he takes a shuddering breath. _Look back_ , he thinks, _look back. Come back_. Then Tony picks up his bags from where he had dropped them in excitement and strides out the door.

GOB brings a hand up to his face and clutches his forehead hard, too hard, trying to make it hurt. His nails dig into the skin of his temples. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, and breaks down.

\--

GOB ends up crying himself to sleep and takes a three hour nap on the living room sofa. When he wakes up, his mind is full of clarity, and he’s ready to make a plan.

The following evening, he arrives at his parents’ penthouse to set up and sends Tony a text telling him to come to the address at seven. He’s not completely confident Tony will show up, though, so he sends Michael to sit in front of Tony’s house to make sure he goes. At 6:40pm, Michael texts that Tony’s on his way without any brotherly intervention, and GOB feels a little bit of tension drain out of him. Tony is coming on his own. Maybe it’s going to work.

“Is this necessary, GOB?” his mother says, sitting on the couch with a vodka martini in her hand. “Whoever this is about, can’t you just buy her some jewelry and flowers without having to drag us all into it?”

Lindsay snorts.

“I told you, Mom,” GOB says, gritting his teeth. “This is the only way.”

“I’m excited,” George Michael says from his spot on the floor. “I mean, anything could happen. Am I right?” He looks at Maeby, who rolls her eyes.

“Look, they’re on their way,” GOB says. “I’m going into the bedroom to prepare. Just enjoy the show, okay?”

GOB escapes behind the closed door of his parents’ room, ignoring the rest of his family’s cries. It doesn’t matter what they say. It’s not about them.

He makes sure his cards are ordered correctly and tucks them in his pocket. He checks his sleeves and arm pouches. Everything is ready to go. He just needs Tony to get there. He doesn’t even allow the thought of this failing to cross his mind, because the idea is too terrifying.

He goes still when hears the front door and soon after, Michael’s voice. 

“Hey, everybody! We’re all here, that’s great. This is Tony, and he’s our, uh—our guest of honor tonight.” Michael introduces everyone. GOB’s breaths are coming quick and shallow and his heart is beating so hard it hurts.

“So go ahead and sit here, Tony,” he hears Michael say, and he can picture the smug smirk on his face. “The chair of honor for the guest of honor.”

“Thanks,” Tony says slowly. GOB presses his ear to the door. “Where’s GOB?”

“He should be here any second,” Michael assures him. “Sit. Please. Have some wine.”

GOB waits until he hears the first chords of The Final Countdown, and then Michael calls, “I _wonder_ why GOB is so late!” 

GOB takes one last, deep breath, and then bursts through the door, dancing along to the music. He’s pleased to see the colored, flashing lights he set up are working. Once he’s into the song, he feels himself relax—it’s just another magic show, after all. He’s done this more times than he can count. He places the knife between his teeth, spreads the cards through his fingers and gyrates his body in time to the music. After a minute, his eyes fall on Tony, who’s watching everything without much of an expression. GOB nods to Michael, who turns the music lower and settles the lights. GOB removes the knife from his mouth and tosses it to the side.

“Thank you all for coming,” he says with his best showman smile. “I’m here because I want to tell everyone a little story.”

GOB pulls the deck of cards out of his pocket and a dove escapes from his sleeve, flapping wildly around the living room. Maeby, Tobias, and Buster all scream. GOB flails, trying to catch it, but Tony quickly reaches up and snatches it out of the air, tucking it into his jacket pocket, and it immediately quiets down.

GOB tries not to feel too humiliated. He’s already fucked up and he hasn’t even really started yet, but isn’t that just the story of his life? He grips the cards and then fans them out, pretending nothing just happened. “Tony, will you choose a card, please?”

“GOB, what is this?” Tony says quietly as he reaches out, and GOB feels his face twitch.

“Just choose a card, please,” he says, forcing himself to grin, “and keep it hidden.” Tony takes one and peeks at it before placing it on his lap.

GOB shuffles the cards. “Young George Michael,” he says, “will you cut the deck, please?”

George Michael does so excitedly, placing them on the table. GOB picks up both halves and puts them back together, and then plucks off the top card, his nerves winding around his stomach.

It’s the king of diamonds. GOB exhales and holds up the card for everyone to see.

“Once upon a time,” he says, “there was a king. The King of Diamonds! He was a wise leader, and fair, and strong. He was also very attractive. He spent his life searching for a queen to make him happy.” GOB tucks the king card into his breast pocket so that the top is still sticking out and picks up the next off the top. “He met the Queen of Spades, and thought he had found a match. They were together for a long time, but they came to realize it wasn’t right.” He throws the card to the floor and Buster eagerly grabs for it.

“Next, he was introduced to the Queen of Hearts. She was beautiful, and he thought she would surely be the one for him. But it turned out that while they had great sexual chemistry, they had nothing else in common. So he moved on.” GOB tosses this card and pulls up the next. “After that was the Queen of Clubs. She was older, and wiser, and made him laugh, and he thought that maybe this was what he needed in his life. But it wasn’t.” The card flutters from his fingers.

“At this point, the King started to become very lonely. Maybe there was something wrong with him, he thought, that made him drive all these beautiful queens away. Maybe he would never find his match. Maybe he was meant to be alone. He turned in on himself, scared of looking outward again. When he met the Queen of Diamonds, he wasn’t expecting it. He lay with her, and agreed to marry her, and he thought maybe all would be well. He didn’t love her, at least not the way other people talked about love. But did it matter if he didn’t have to be alone?”

GOB’s voice cracks a little and he lets the card fall to the floor.

“He ruined that, too. And for the next five years, he fell deeper and deeper down, trying to use everything he could to forget his failure of a life. He found someone who helped ruin him, and who he helped ruin, too, and they dragged each other underwater, tying weights to each other’s ankles, drowning in their misery together.”

GOB throws the rest of the cards into the audience they scatter over his family. He finally meets Tony’s eyes and finds that Tony is staring at him, rapt with attention, his eyes wide, his throat working. GOB pulls the King of Diamonds back out of his pocket and holds it up.

“Finally, one day, when the King was least expecting it, he met someone who made him laugh. Who encouraged him when he made a mistake, who listened to him when he was upset, who challenged him when he was complacent. The King was scared, but this person made him better, and he could feel it.”

GOB pauses. He had done so when practicing, for dramatic effect, but now that Tony is there, looking at him, listening to him, he just needs a moment to gather himself. He takes in a shaky breath.

“Tony, can you hold up your card, please?”

Tony does. It’s the King of Hearts. Buster gasps and says, “Oooh!”

“You are the king of my heart,” GOB says, not taking his eyes off Tony. “The King of Hearts and the King of Diamonds. We belong together. I’ve been scared for a long time, but I’m not scared anymore. I’m not running. I want everyone to know that I love you.”

It’s then that his father bursts into tears. GOB is so startled that he looks over in confusion and doesn’t see Tony coming toward him until his arms are already around GOB’s shoulders, holding him tight. He clutches at Tony and they stay like that until GOB hears his family start murmuring. Then he puts his hands on either side of Tony’s face and kisses him, and Tony kisses him back so softly and sweetly that GOB thinks he might die from happiness. There’s a smattering of applause from the family and they pull back, just barely, still holding on to each other.

“So why did we all need to be here for this?” Lindsay says, breaking the silence. “I mean, it’s very sweet and all, but I had a full schedule today and I had to cancel an appearance because of a family emergency and it turns out the emergency is that my brother wants to get laid?”

“Can homosexuals even have sex?” Lucille says. “How would that work? The parts just aren’t there.”

“Stop being so old-fashioned, Gangie,” Maeby says. “Of course the gays can have sex. It’s about having orgasms. You can have an orgasm in a lot of different ways.”

Lucille looks disgusted.

“It’s true,” Tobias chimes in. “There are a myriad of ways in which homosexual men experience sex. Some use the anus as a sort of vagina, if you will, for penetrative and oral sex. Others prefer oral and manual stimulation.”

“Add that to the things I never needed to hear,” Lucille mutters, and she downs her drink.

“I’m proud of you, Uncle GOB,” Maeby says, and gets up from the floor to give him a hug. GOB hugs her back, touched, and then she gives Tony a hug, too. “Welcome to the family,” she says with a shrug. “At least there’s always plenty of alcohol.”

“Thanks,” Tony says, and GOB sees his eyes shining. His own feel kind of wet as well.

“Wait a second,” Buster says suddenly. “You two are really in love? I thought this was just a story!”

Everyone stares at him.

“It’s a true story,” GOB says slowly. “Tony and I are in love…I think!” he adds, looking at Tony in a panic when he realizes they haven’t actually talked about it since the morning before.

“We’re in love,” Tony confirms with a small smile. “And while it’s been great to meet you all, I think we have some things to talk about, so if you don’t mind, we’ll get going.”

“Great,” Lindsay says. “Make us all come here and then be the first to leave. Typical.”

Michael stands up and comes over to them, holding out his hand to shake Tony’s. 

“I know we’ve met before, but I just wanted to tell you, I’ve never seen my brother so happy before, and I know it’s all thanks to you. I really believe what he said about you making him better. So thank you.”

“Thanks,” Tony says hoarsely. GOB is openly weeping and he throws his arms around Michael.

“Oh, Michael,” GOB sobs into his shoulder. “Brothers again. I can’t believe it.”

“Well, I can,” Michael says, gently nudging GOB off of him. “Now, go with your boyfriend.”

GOB smiles brilliantly.

\--

They don’t say much on the drive home, but Tony’s hand doesn’t move from GOB’s knee the whole time, and its warm presence keeps GOB’s heart beating strong and steady. When they pull up to Tony’s house, he kills the engine and they both unbuckle their seat belts. Neither of them opens the door.

“I’m sorry,” GOB says suddenly, because he can’t wait any longer, and before he can repeat himself, just to make sure Tony heard him, to make sure he said the right word and pronounced it correctly—Tony’s mouth is on his, fingers threading through his hair. GOB moans quietly in surprise, kissing him back, and he lets his hands find Tony’s waist and tries to pull him close, _closer_.

“The cards,” Tony says. “It was perfect. How did you do it?”

“I’ll tell you later,” GOB says, and he leans forward to kiss him again.

“You came up with it all on your own?”

“I adapted it,” GOB says and sucks at Tony’s earlobe.

“Your mom’s face,” Tony says, laughing a little, and it turns into a groan as GOB nibbles at the skin. “I can see why you were scared to tell her.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” GOB says. “Everyone knows now. I’m going to tell everyone!”

“We should probably talk over a few things,” Tony says, and GOB knows he means JBJ, but then Tony’s tongue is licking at the inside of GOB’s mouth, and he’s pressing him into the seat and climbing on top of him and straddling his lap, and GOB figures they can talk about it later. Tony sucks at his tongue and GOB moans, letting his hands creep up under Tony’s shirt and feeling the smooth skin of his back. Tony shivers under his hands.

“Do you want to go inside?” Tony says, then trails his mouth over GOB’s jaw. He’s grinding down a little, letting gravity do the work. GOB’s hands slip under his waistband so that he can squeeze Tony’s ass. Tony grinds harder and runs his tongue over the shell of GOB’s ear.

“Would we have to move?” GOB says, encouraging Tony’s rolling hips with his hands. Tony smiles and kisses him again, pressing their chests tightly together.

“Yeah,” Tony says with his tongue still in GOB’s mouth. His nails scratch a little at the back of GOB’s neck and then dive down the back of his shirt.

“Then not really,” GOB says, trailing his fingers lightly over the skin where Tony’s ass meets his thigh. Tony squirms and GOB is nothing short of delighted. He can’t get over watching Tony react to his touch, the way Tony always has to make a sound or a face or wriggle in his lap. Because of _him_. He lets his fingers move back over the same spot, even more lightly this time, trying to make the hairs stand up on Tony’s arms. It works.

“God,” Tony groans, more noise than word. He snaps his hips down against GOB’s and GOB can feel how hard Tony is, rubbing against his own erection. 

_This is amazing_ , he thinks, and he looks up at Tony in wonder. 

Tony’s mouth falls onto GOB’s ear and he whispers, “Do you ever think about what it would be like to fuck me?”

GOB’s eyes widen. “No,” he says honestly, because he hasn’t thought about that. “I think about what it would be like for you to fuck me.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Tony says, grinding down onto him, breath hot and loud on GOB’s neck. “You’re gonna make me come in my jeans.”

“Same,” GOB groans, the words driving arousal through him like Tony’s actually touching him. 

“I’m serious,” Tony says. “You make me feel like a fucking teenager.” He finds a spot on GOB’s neck and sucks hard. GOB responds by squeezing his ass, letting his nails dig into the skin. Tony doesn’t stop writhing on top of him and GOB is embarrassed at how close he is, just from this, but he feels like a teenager, too.

“Fuck,” GOB breathes, and there’s a loud noise as Tony’s lips release his neck. Suddenly, he’s crushing their mouths together, Tony’s tongue darting against GOB’s over and over and GOB is thrusting his hips up to meet Tony’s movements and GOB’s body turns to liquid fire as he comes, every nerve ending zinging white-hot through his entire body. About five seconds later, Tony sags into his arms, and GOB takes his hands out of Tony’s pants and wraps them tight around his lower back. Tony keeps kissing him fiercely, hands on his neck, thumbs rubbing just behind his ears, and it’s perfect.

“God,” Tony says as he pulls back, panting. “We really are like a couple of teenagers.” He looks down between them and grimaces. GOB can’t take his eyes off Tony’s face. 

Eventually, they do go inside, but all they manage before falling into bed is a hot shower filled with soap-slick hugs and watery kisses and hands moving ceaselessly over each other. They leave their clothes in a heap on the bathroom floor. When GOB’s head hits the pillow he looks over and sees Tony looking back at him, and his entire body fills with a warmth that starts deep within his core. 

“I love you,” GOB says.

“I love you,” Tony says back. 

Their hands find each other, fingers twisting together, and Tony’s small smile is the last thing GOB sees before he falls asleep.

\--

They get through breakfast (poached eggs over asparagus with homemade bread, thanks to Tony), two cups of coffee, and a half hour of making out on the couch, interrupted only by a full episode of The Price is Right (“Should have bid $1001, like I said,” GOB says, shaking his head) before Tony says, “So, can we talk about a few things?”

GOB’s hands and feet go cold and clammy.

“Sure,” he says, forcing a smile. Tony’s not looking at him. Is Tony just going to break up with him after all this?

“So I really…” Tony starts, and then shakes his head. “I know you already apologized and I just want you to know that I do forgive you. But I had to tell you something.”

“Okay,” GOB says slowly.

“I loved everything you did last night. I really did. It was the best thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Okay,” GOB repeats, because he’s waiting for the _but_. _But I can’t be with you because you’re a liar. But I’m breaking up with you because you’re clearly in love with your ex something._

“But I wish you hadn’t used the ‘Wonder’ gag to start it all off,” Tony says in a rush, doing the “W” quotes with his fingers. “I know that sounds really selfish. But it’s, like, the most recognizable thing about me, and I deal with copycats all the time, and I know we’re dating now, but we’re still kind of like rival magicians or whatever, so just. Don’t, okay?”

GOB feels like his eyes are going to bug out of his head.

“Is that it?” he says breathlessly, grabbing at Tony’s hands. “That’s all?”

“Well, it’s really important to me,” Tony says. “Also, I just want you to know that you need to tell me if you ever are in contact with JBJ ever again or it’s seriously over because I want to trust you but you make it really hard sometimes.”

“That’s more of what I was expecting,” GOB says. Tony’s thumb rubs along his wrist. “And I—I get it.”

“I hope so,” Tony says. “Because I can’t even really tell you how shitty it felt to know that you saw him and you hadn’t even mentioned it to me. I mean, I know you did mention him before that, but I thought it was all in theory at that point, and it wasn’t. So I know you have this fucked up thing about him, and I’m not saying you can’t talk to him, because it’s your choice, even though I wish he would just disappear off the face of the fucking earth. But I want to know. Right away.”

“Okay,” GOB says, his chest aching at the thought of making Tony feel shitty. “I’ll tell you. I don’t think it’s going to happen again, but I’ll tell you. I’m going to tell you everything. I’m going to be calling you like, hey, Tony! Guess what I just did! I just ate some granola and moved from the kitchen to the living room. And you’re going to be all annoyed because you have to hear every detail about my life.”

“I want to hear it,” Tony says, and he looks so earnest that it makes GOB’s heart clench. “I want to be the person you tell everything to. The little stuff and the big stuff. All of it.”

Tears well up in GOB’s eyes. “I want to be that person for you, too.”

Tony pulls him into a hug, and GOB takes the opportunity to press his face into Tony’s shoulder, trying to make himself stop crying. They sit like that for a minute, not moving, before Tony takes GOB’s head between his hands and pulls him up to press their lips together.

“This is good,” Tony says, scratching his fingers through GOB’s hair. GOB leans forward until their foreheads are touching and closes his eyes.

“This is good,” he repeats quietly. 

\--

“It’s our three month anniversary,” GOB says excitedly to Michael over the phone as he holds up a shirt to his chest and looks in the mirror. “Tony’s taking me out. I have no idea what we’re doing. He planned everything. Isn’t that romantic?”

“Very,” Michael says. “Listen, GOB, it’s been great talking to you, but I have to—”

“I don’t know if he got me a present or anything, but our date is present enough,” GOB gushes. “I mean, it would be nice if he got me something. But it doesn’t really matter, because all I care about is being with him.”

“Yes, that’s much more important than the material—material things,” Michael says. He sounds distracted. GOB frowns.

“Are you listening to me, Michael? This is a milestone in my life. Are you even listening?”

“Of course I’m listening, GOB. I just—I’ve got some things going on over here and I need to go.”

“Fine,” GOB says, frowning and straightening his tie. “I’ll call you tomorrow. If everything goes well.”

“Great. Have a great time. Say hi to Tony.”

“Bye,” GOB says and throws the phone onto the bed. He turns back to the mirror, scrutinizing his outfit, his face, and his hairline. He grimaces and brushes back his hair. Just then, the doorbell rings.

GOB practices smiling seductively at the mirror one last time before rushing downstairs to open the door. Tony’s there, in a full tux with tails, holding a dozen roses—real roses, not the fake ones you can pull out of your sleeve. He smiles at GOB, his eyes bright, and GOB tries to control his expression but he’s pretty sure he’s not doing a good job of hiding the awe that he feels.

“Happy anniversary,” Tony says, and presses a soft, dry kiss to his lips.

“Happy anniversary,” GOB says, taking the flowers. “I—thank you. They’re beautiful. I’ll just—I’ll just put them in water and then we’ll go, okay?”

“Sounds perfect,” Tony says. “Did I mention you look sexy as hell?”

“Have you seen yourself?” GOB says as he carries the roses into the kitchen. He tries to take slow, deep breaths to calm himself down. He can’t find a vase, so he fills a purple plastic cup with water.

“Ready to go?” Tony asks, holding out his arm. GOB takes it, letting his hand rest in the crook of Tony’s elbow and unable to stop a stupid grin from spreading across his face.

“Where are we going?” GOB says as they walk out the door. Tony opens the car door for him and GOB gives him a look, but Tony just shrugs with a little smile.

“First, we’re going to dinner,” Tony says. “Then, you’ll see.” 

They go to a magic show. It’s Criss Angel. GOB screams a little when they pull up to the valet and the huge posters of him are hanging everywhere. The show is incredible—inspirational, GOB thinks, and he and Tony can’t stop talking about on the drive home, trying to figure out all the little sleights of hand he pulled. Some things were obvious; others, not as much.

“Man, I would love to just sit down with him to talk everything over. Also, he’s kind of hot,” GOB admits as they pull into the driveway in Sudden Valley.

“I knew it!” Tony says with a grin as he pulls the key out of the ignition. “There was just something about the way you talked about him that made me think you’d enjoy this show more than others.”

“Well, I did. Thank you,” GOB says, and they make their way into the house. “Thank you. Tonight has been perfect.”

Tony slams the front door shut behind them before turning around with his eyes gleaming. “Upstairs?”

GOB has him against the wall before he can even finish the word. He runs his hands all over Tony’s body, plunging his tongue into Tony’s mouth, fisting his hair with one hand and pulling his hips closer with the other. Tony seems so small, so delicate, and GOB loves the way he feels underneath him, clinging to the back of his shirt and moaning under his mouth.

After a minute, Tony says again, “Upstairs?” and gives GOB a hard little shove in the chest. GOB narrows his eyes and Tony grabs his hand, dragging him along until they reach the bedroom, where Tony is suddenly looking at him like a feral animal stalking his prey. GOB is not prepared for the heat emanating from his gaze.

“I love you,” Tony says and then pushes GOB onto the bed with both hands. GOB falls back, staring up at him.

“I love you too,” he whispers, and before he knows it, his suit jacket is being ripped off. There’s a warm tongue on his throat and his tie is being loosened. He reaches weakly for Tony’s clothes but Tony slaps him away, tugging GOB’s shirt up to untuck it from his pants and undoing each button in the most focused way GOB has ever seen from him. It’s the same kind of focus he has during his magic shows, sharp, rehearsed, like he has one end goal and he knows how he’s going to get it. GOB swallows.

Once Tony has GOB in his boxer briefs and nothing else, he quickly strips off his tux and climbs onto the bed with him, nudging him back onto the pillows and lying next to him, half on top of him. Tony kisses him slowly, then, letting his hand wander over GOB’s stomach and chest and side, making gooseflesh rise all over his body. GOB knows what he’s thinking before Tony can even say a word about it, and his heart begins to pound with anxiety.

Tony pulls back and says, “GOB—”

“Let’s do it,” GOB interrupts, the words escaping in a rush. Tony smiles down at him.

“How do you know that’s what I was going to say?”

“Because I know you,” GOB says, trying to sound cocky and secure even though his hands are shaking.

“You do,” Tony says, suddenly serious. “You’ve figured me out better than anyone ever has before.”

“Same,” GOB says, and he lets his hand rest on Tony’s back, trying to squash his nerves by drawing strength from Tony’s stability.

“I have to say this, though,” Tony says. “It’s really okay if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to do it for me. I’m totally happy with our sex life how it is right now.”

“I know,” GOB says, and he does. The idea has been settling on him slowly, seeping under his skin, making itself comfortable there, until GOB realized that he does want to be connected to Tony in this way. He at least wants to try. He thinks about explaining all this to Tony but all that comes out of his mouth is, “I really want to.”

“I’m glad,” Tony whispers, and he doesn’t say anything else but he doesn’t move, either, just watches GOB’s face until GOB feels self-conscious enough to meet his lips in a kiss. Tony’s fingers trail up his chest until they reach his neck, his hand cupping GOB’s jaw, and GOB kisses him until his shakiness subsides and his nerves stop singing. It’s just Tony, he thinks. It’s just Tony.

Tony’s mouth replaces his hand on GOB’s neck, which moves to cup GOB’s half-hard cock through his boxer briefs, rubbing him slowly. GOB’s hips rise to meet him and Tony laughs into GOB’s neck before leaving a trail of wetness over his collarbone with his tongue. Tony keeps moving, clearly not in a rush, mouthing over GOB’s chest and flicking his tongue over a nipple, then down his abdomen, taking time to suck on GOB’s hip bone for a while before taking the waistband of GOB’s boxer briefs between his teeth and letting them snap against his skin. GOB smiles fondly at him as Tony meets his eyes, laughing. Then he presses a kiss to the thatch of hair leading down from GOB’s navel before mouthing GOB’s cock through the fabric.

GOB is incredibly hard with Tony working him all over his body, and his thighs clench when Tony presses his tongue flat against him and drags down, the fabric quickly becoming wet with spit and rubbing along the sensitive underside of his cock. GOB fists the sheets.

Tony’s mouth closes over his balls and he drags his nails lightly down the inside of GOB’s thigh. GOB groans at this, trying not to thrust, spreading his legs wider. Tony moves to the juncture of GOB’s groin and thigh and his tongue traces the elastic, working its way underneath. Even though Tony’s not touching his cock anymore GOB can still _feel_ it there, and his hips wriggle, unable to bear the arousal coursing through him.

“How about this?” Tony says, exhaling hotly onto GOB’s groin. “I’m going to get you so hard and so close to coming that you’re going to be begging me to fuck you.” He hooks his fingers in the waistband of GOB’s boxer briefs and slowly, carefully, pulls them down.

“Ah,” GOB cries, not quite able to form coherent words. Tony’s mouth hovers above his cock and he looks up at GOB expectantly, not moving, just breathing. GOB can feel the desperate, pathetic shape his face is taking and Tony grins. “C—c—c—c—come—come on,” GOB finally manages.

Tony pulls GOB’s boxer briefs all the way off, pressing a kiss to the top of his foot and then running his fingers along the place his tongue had been earlier, the line between GOB’s groin and his thigh. GOB hesitantly reaches for Tony with one hand, gently resting it on the back of Tony’s head, and he puts a little pressure on, trying to guide Tony down. Tony just laughs again.

“ _Please_ ,” GOB finally says, more of a groan than anything, and Tony immediately takes the head of GOB’s cock in his mouth, slathering it with spit, flicking along the underside, and _sucking_. GOB fists both hands in the sheets again before he does something that Tony won’t like, but he can’t stop his hips from jerking slightly. Tony doesn’t seem to mind, though, and after a moment he slowly takes GOB further into his mouth. GOB looks down at this point and sees him, his lips red and shiny, stretched around his cock, and he lets out another groan from how fucking _sexy_ he looks.

Tony wraps his hand firmly around the base of GOB’s cock and starts moving it in unison with his mouth, bobbing his head up and down as he experiments with his tongue, sometimes holding it flat and steady as it moves over him and sometimes leaving it loose and flicking. GOB pushes Tony’s hair back on his forehead and leaves his hand there, trying to get a hold of himself when he’s nearly delirious with want and pleasure. Everything is just so incredibly _good_ , from the steady strokes of Tony’s hand to the slick movements of his tongue to Tony’s other fingers resting lightly on his hip. His skin feels as though it has been sensitized, like every touch is a thousand times more intense than it should be, and GOB’s thighs can’t stop clenching and unclenching and he thinks maybe Tony is just going to let him come but then he pulls off, right when GOB feels his balls starting to tighten. GOB moans weakly in protest. 

“Turn over,” Tony says, digging his hand under GOB’s hip and pushing him onto his side. GOB rolls the rest of the way onto his front, nerves starting to flutter again in his stomach, but then he feels Tony’s mouth on his lower back and his eyes widen into the pillow.

Tony carefully spreads his cheeks apart and GOB can feel the light flicker of his tongue on his hole. He sticks his ass up in the air a little, trying to make it easier for Tony, and Tony’s tongue slithers happily back and forth over him. This is so different from getting his dick sucked, the coil of arousal like hot glowing embers rather than flying sparks, but it feels so incredible all the same. Tony is slow and sweet and purposeful and GOB lets himself relax because they’ve done this before and it feels familiar and perfect.

GOB can feel Tony’s tongue stiffen and prod at him, soft but firm, and he forces himself not to clench up. Then Tony presses a kiss there and GOB feels him rustling around.

“Can I touch you here?” Tony says, a slick wet finger replacing his mouth, and GOB whimpers.

“Yeah,” he says hoarsely, and the finger rubs around his hole before pressing in. It doesn’t feel like it’s going anywhere and GOB tries not to panic. 

“It’s okay,” Tony says, rubbing GOB’s lower back with one hand and pressing a kiss to his ass. “When you feel it, push out, okay?”

“Okay,” GOB says, wondering how Tony knows so much about this when GOB’s the one who’s done it before. He feels Tony’s finger pressing forward again and he takes a deep, shuddering breath before pushing, as Tony said. Tony’s finger slips slowly inside and GOB can feel it. The blood rushes to his face and his breathing quickens and Tony is there, suddenly, up by his shoulder, kissing his neck and telling him it’s okay, his finger stilled. GOB turns his head to the side so he can take Tony’s mouth in a hungry kiss and Tony starts to move his finger, then, so slowly, pulling out and then pressing back in, and GOB focuses on Tony’s mouth on his as Tony’s finger swivels around _inside_ of him and he can feel it hitting the walls of his ass and oh, _God_.

“How are you doing?” Tony whispers against his lips.

“Good,” GOB says and presses his face into the pillow again. “Don’t stop.” 

Tony kisses his cheek, then his shoulder, and then GOB feels his hand spreading him open again. He can feel Tony’s knuckles right up against his ass while his finger twists inside, and Tony fucks him with it slowly, rubbing up inside of him, and after a minute something starts to feel good— _really_ good—and it only builds and builds as Tony continues. GOB finds himself gasping a little, sucking the fabric of the pillowcase into his mouth.

Finally, Tony pulls his finger out and GOB can feel his hole gaping around the space where it had been, and it all feels so fucking _dirty_ that GOB moans, turned on and bereft, grinding down into the mattress.

“Hey,” Tony says, crawling up GOB’s body again and pushing gently at his side. “Turn over.”

GOB does and Tony’s mouth is on his in an instant. They kiss for a minute, holding each other tightly.

“Should we keep going?” Tony says, and for the first time, GOB thinks he looks just a little bit uncertain.

“You’re going to do all this to me and then try to _stop?_ ” GOB says. Tony laughs.

“What does it feel like?” Tony says.

“It’s weird,” GOB says. “At first it just felt weird. But it started feeling really good.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” GOB says. “Like, really good.”

“So you want to keep going?”

“I want to come with you inside of me,” GOB says, and Tony’s eyes widen. He grins and dives in to kiss GOB again and they roll on the bed a little bit, hands and legs and bodies all pressed up against each other, mouths moving messily together. Warm contentment spreads through GOB’s chest.

“Should we do it like this?” Tony asks, lying on top of GOB so they’re face to face. GOB nods, taking Tony’s cock in his hand and giving it a few strokes. Tony smiles and grabs his wrist to stop him. 

“You get to do all the touching,” GOB whines. Tony gives him a quick kiss and then sits back, spreading GOB’s legs open and settling on his knees between them.

“Okay,” Tony says. “How do we—”

“Maybe a pillow would help,” GOB says, thinking guiltily of JBJ. He grabs one from beside his head to shove under his hips.

“Okay,” Tony repeats. “And then—”

“I’ll, um, go like this?” GOB bends his knees and rolls back so his legs are in the air and his ass is more easily accessible.

“Okay,” Tony says again. “And I’ll just—”

“Get the lube,” GOB says, holding onto his knees to keep them up and back more easily as Tony reaches behind him for the small bottle. When he turns around again, he just stops and looks at GOB for a moment, holding himself spread open, and GOB feels a flush creep across his face.

Tony pops open the bottle and squeezes a huge amount into his hand. He rubs it over his cock and then reaches for GOB’s hole again, smearing the slick liquid all over.

“So now I’ll do it,” Tony says, meeting GOB’s eyes. “If you’re ready.”

“Yeah,” GOB says and tries to force his muscles to relax again, but he’s nervous and turned on and excited and it’s making it hard. Tony’s still looking at him and he reaches forward until their lips meet again. Then he pushes himself up, supporting his weight on one arm and reaching between them with the other. GOB can feel the slick tip of Tony’s cock press up against his hole and it feels _huge_ , but he unclenches his thighs and waits. Tony pushes forward slowly and then he’s there, completely inside of GOB, filling him up. GOB breathes in and out shallowly, getting used to the feeling.

Tony is staring at him and GOB waits for him to say something about how he’s going to fuck him until he can’t see straight, or whatever crazy dirty thing Tony always manages to come up with, but he waits and he waits and Tony doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, just watches him, eyes not leaving his face. His lips are red and swollen and his eyes are wide, so wide, like he can’t believe what’s happening. GOB slowly realizes that the look on Tony’s face is half awe, half terror, and it hits him that Tony is even more scared than he is.

GOB reaches up and brushes the hair back from his forehead, holding Tony’s gaze. He strokes Tony’s cheek and then lets his hand fall to the back of Tony’s neck, holding him there, steady, his thumb rubbing slow circles just behind Tony’s ear.

“Yes,” GOB says simply, and Tony gets it. He pulls back slowly and then thrusts, pulls back and then thrusts, falling into an awkward rhythm at first before seeming to figure it out. GOB lets his legs fall and wrap around Tony’s waist, hooking his feet together behind his back. Tony groans at this and GOB doesn’t let go of his neck, and sometimes Tony’s eyes are closed and sometimes they’re open but GOB doesn’t stop looking at him, keeping the two of them centered there, focusing on Tony’s mouth and the small twitches of his face and the slow burn of arousal building within him again as Tony moves inside of him.

Tony cries out once as he snaps his hips quicker and quicker and GOB cups his cheek.

“Touch me,” he says, and Tony’s eyes go wide and a little desperate, and he presses his mouth to GOB’s as his hand, still slick with lube, wraps around GOB’s cock. The simultaneous sensations of Tony gripping him tight while filling him completely makes GOB moan again and again and he’s pushing his hips up to meet Tony’s, then, and Tony is jerking him hard and fast and their mouths are a mess of tongues slipping around and teeth catching on lips. Tony is squeezing GOB’s cock and he locks his legs around Tony’s hips, holding him deep inside as GOB comes, letting out stuttering groans and bucking wildly against him, eyes shut tight. 

When he opens them, Tony is still staring at him with that look of awe, and GOB wiggles his hips and says “Come on,” and Tony only thrusts hard once, twice, three times before stilling inside of him, the only movements he’s making tiny jerks of his hips as he moans long and loud. GOB runs his fingers through Tony’s hair and they breathe into each other’s mouths for a moment.

Then Tony slips out of him and collapses between GOB’s legs, kissing him hard. GOB can feel Tony’s softening cock against his own and it makes him shiver. He straightens his knees out hooks his feet around Tony’s calves, and Tony’s head falls onto GOB’s shoulder.

They lay like that for a minute before GOB realizes Tony is shaking. He wraps his arms tight around Tony’s back and whispers, “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Better than okay,” Tony says roughly into GOB’s shoulder. GOB remembers how he felt after fucking JBJ, like he held an overwhelming amount of power, and how scared he was of ruining everything. He wonders if Tony feels like that now.

GOB is tired and vulnerable and sore from his thighs to his back but above all that, he just feels _happy_. The happiness spreads throughout his entire body, light and airy and sweet. He loves that he can share this with Tony, that he can make him feel good like this. 

“I should be asking if _you’re_ okay,” Tony says suddenly, and GOB just smiles. He kisses Tony’s forehead, holding his mouth there longer than necessary.

“I’m so good,” GOB says, and it’s true. He holds Tony tight, one hand in his hair, the other around his back, their hearts pounding between them, and he listens to Tony breathe.

\--

“Are you nervous or something?” Tony asks, eyeing GOB as he paces back and forth over an area of approximately three square feet.

“What? Nervous? No way.” GOB forces himself to stop pacing, but then his foot starts tapping uncontrollably. Tony smiles at him.

“You _are_ coming out in front of, like, a hundred million people,” Tony says, and GOB’s jaw drops open.

“What? Lindsay said it was only going to be a few thousand!”

“It is! It is. I was just exaggerating. Don’t freak out.”

GOB starts pacing again. “Why did we agree to do this?”

“Because you love your sister and you want to help her campaign. You also love getting lots of attention and everyone’s going to want to talk to you and it’s going to be a boost for your career.”

“We should be doing an illusion up there,” GOB mutters. “Why did we let her talk us out of doing an illusion? I can’t give a speech. Me, speaking in public to a hundred million people about being gay? I can’t. What if I’m not even gay? Tony, what if someone finds out I’m not gay?”

Tony suddenly grabs GOB’s arms and GOB jumps, startled. Tony’s firm grip on his biceps keeps him rooted in place, so he starts tapping his foot again.

“You’re gay for me, aren’t you?”

“Super gay for you,” GOB confirms, his eyes darting up to the TV screen, where Lindsay is currently rallying the crowd. GOB can hear them chanting _put up this wall!_ on the TV and the sound echoes thunderously from outside.

“So that’s all you have to tell them. You’re gay for and in love with your hot boyfriend but you can still put on a suit and tie and sound hetero enough to seem non-threatening.”

“Okay,” GOB says, nodding. “Okay, I guess that’s all true.”

“It _is_ true and you’re going to kick ass out there and I’m going to be right beside you the whole time.” Tony relaxes his grip on GOB’s arms and tucks a few stray hairs behind GOB’s ear.

“Guys, one minute!” The producer pokes his head in the room and GOB swivels around to look at him. He nods. Suddenly, it feels like water is pouring down his forehead.

“I’m sweating. Am I sweating?”

“You look great,” Tony says, brushing his thumbs over GOB’s forehead before cupping his cheeks and pressing their lips together lightly. “You are great. You’re going to be amazing.”

“I love you,” GOB says, and the words seem tiny and inconsequential and pathetic for how desperately he’s experiencing it all, his love for Tony and his gratitude for Tony’s support and presence and kisses and love in return. He pulls Tony close to him, trying to make him _feel_ it. Tony’s hand comes to rest on the back of his head.

“I love you,” he whispers in GOB’s ear, and GOB’s heart squeezes in his chest.

“Let’s go!” the producer says, popping back in the room and gesturing to them. GOB and Tony follow him outside, hand in hand, onto the huge stage that’s been set up. There are so many people that GOB can’t even see individual faces, just a mess of colors and light. The sun beats down on his face. He squints as he approaches the center of the stage, looking for his family in the front row, but he can’t find them.

GOB glances to his right. Tony is there, smiling back at him. His hand is warm and heavy in GOB’s, steady, reassuring. He gives GOB a small nod and GOB squeezes back before letting go to step up to the podium. GOB looks out over the crowd, then back at Tony one more time.

“My name is GOB Bluth, and as many of you already know, Lindsay is my sister.”

The crowd roars, and the noise soothes GOB’s nerves, encouraging him on. He smiles and motions for them to quiet down.

“I couldn’t be more excited to be here to support her, but before I get started, I need to introduce you to someone. This person is not only the reason I’m up here today, but the reason why I have the strength and courage to do everything I want to do. I know that with him by my side, we can join with my sister and with all of you to fight for what’s right.”

GOB takes a deep breath and looks over at Tony again. Tony is grinning unabashedly at him, his eyes wide and bright. GOB reaches out his hand again and Tony takes it, stepping up next to him. Together, they face the crowd.

“Ladies and gentleman, my boyfriend, Tony Wonder.”


End file.
